


It's Sho Time

by Zeiskyte



Series: Syzygy [1]
Category: Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: #GoroBigBang2020, Akechi Goro’s Dubious Mental Health, Angst, Basically Persona 5 Arena: the fic, Character Study, Descriptions of child experimentation, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Goro joins the Shadow Operatives, I SHOuld., Introspection, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Persona 4: Arena Ultimax Spoilers, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Should I put a warning for Sho’s puns?, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29001549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeiskyte/pseuds/Zeiskyte
Summary: More than a year has passed since Akechi Goro cut himself free from his puppet strings and tore the dream reality asunder. With Shido imprisoned and Maruki done away with, Goro finds himself without purpose - a faceless man in a world that has forgotten his very existence. As if pulled by the strings of fate themselves, Goro is drawn to Inaba. When he is approached by enigma Minazuki Sho, a man with a similarly mysterious past and ties to an organization known as the Shadow Operatives, he is offered a road towards atonement - and potentially, a place to belong.Written for #GoroBigBang2020, including art by @ruruuuundesu and @PentheDragon!
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Minazuki Sho, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Labrys/Minazuki Sho
Series: Syzygy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127600
Comments: 24
Kudos: 44
Collections: Goro Big Bang 2020





	1. Dark Sun, Bright Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been working on this since August and I'm _so_ excited to finally post this!! If you've talked to me at all since August, I'm certain you've heard me talking about this behemoth of a fic. I can't thank the other Goromods enough for their love and support over these past few months, whether it was about this fic or about life in general. I don't think I could have done this without them. This has been one hell of a passion project and they helped me stick with it. This fic wouldn't even be here if they hadn't helped me through it.
> 
> Big thanks to the Goro Big Bang server for keeping me motivated over the course of the event. Even _bigger_ thanks to [Violet](https://twitter.com/violetemergency) and [Eliot](https://twitter.com/selkie_au_lover) for betaing this. This fic has been a rollercoaster and I give you both kudos for dealing with it.
> 
> The art in chapter two is drawn by [Maru](https://twitter.com/ruruuuundesu)!! Please check out her work and join Arena hell with us. If you like Goro, I'm certain you'll like Sho as well.
> 
> EDIT: [Pen](https://twitter.com/PentheDragon) drew art for this as well! Her art is in this chapter and in chapter four!! Please check out her art and her fics, I couldn't recommend them enough!!
> 
> Without further ado: It's Sho Time.

June 2nd, 2018. It was odd to see the date staring up at him, considering Goro never thought he'd live past eighteen. He should have been dead two times over, but here he was - camping out in some backwater country town in order to stay under the radar. He didn't need the Phantom Thieves discovering that he was alive; that would mean confronting Akira, confronting what happened in that fake reality, confronting _himself_ -

Goro took in a sharp breath. Did he really need to think about this every goddamn day?

_No_ , he thought as he hitched his backpack further up his shoulder, _I left Tokyo behind. I left Akira behind._

After stopping at the rehab he and his mother had stayed at, knowing he'd at least be safe from the public eye and Shido's dogs, he said his farewells to the only city he had ever known. Goro had always wanted to travel, a childish dream he never managed to squash; now, with Shido's blood money and his revenge plan thoroughly forfeit, he was backpacking around Japan. Maybe he'd fly to America or Europe once he got tired of his home country.

He had been staying in Gifu for the past few months to accumulate more funds; swallowing his pride, he had taken on a job as a grocery clerk. Plastering on a customer service smile and biting back his curses reminded him too much of his Detective Prince days, so it was unsurprising he couldn’t even last a year. The income was mediocre, especially considering the mental Olympics Goro had to put himself through on a single day of the job. With his apartment bills and the cost of food, he had ended up with even _less_ money than he started with.

So. After leaving behind Gifu, he planned on stopping in Osaka, and somehow ended up in a sleepy old town in the middle of nowhere. The name sounded familiar and Hereward thrummed under his skin, silently goading him forward.

Maybe it was destiny, or perhaps it was the pull of fate stringing him along; whatever the reason was, he ended up in Inaba.

And hm. His money was starting to run low. Gifu had done him no favors, and he was too far from Osaka to turn back now. Finding employment in Inaba before he reached the ends of his funds was probably his best bet.

He pocketed his phone and entered the shopping district. The area was desolate, compared to the chaos of Tokyo's downtown streets. Inaba was much quieter than the city and Goro could acutely hear the patter of his own footsteps; back home, he was lucky to hear his own thoughts. It was... _different_ , to say the least. Goro wasn't sure if it was bad just yet. He filed it away for later introspection.

Striding past a tofu restaurant, he noticed a bulletin board covered in fliers. Out of curiosity, he approached it. Inspecting the pages, they looked to be job listings. Well, that was convenient.

_Dog walker... no. Origami crane folder - is that even a job?_

Goro sighed. He should have expected a backwater town to have inadequate employment. He was out of luck back in the city too, considering he never finished senior high school or started university. His work experience under the SIU was null; no one besides the Thieves and a small handful of other city dwellers even remembered his _existence_. What a fall from fame.

Maybe he would just have to bite the bullet and take on a dead-end job. He would have to swallow his pride, but considering he had no reputation anymore, what did it matter? Money was money and he needed a place to stay.

His garnet eyes stalled on one of the pages, its wrinkled and slightly-torn edges barely peeking out from underneath the newer listings. Gas station worker? The town was so small, the residents probably didn't even drive around too much. That was... doable.

Goro glanced back towards the southern area of the shopping district. He passed the gas station a few minutes ago, didn't he? It had been close to the bus stop. He adjusted his bag, turned on his heel, and began to head back.

If this didn't work out, there was always heading back to Gifu or actually going to Osaka as he planned. Even riskier was spending the last of his money on a one-way flight to America. English to Japanese translators were popular, weren't they? His English was fairly decent so the option wasn't completely off the table. Besides, a change in scenery would be nice, especially after spending most of his life confined to Tokyo.

As he passed the alleyway right before the gas station, goosebumps ran across his skin and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Hereward buzzed under his skin in warning, and certainly not for the first time, Goro wished he still had his gun on him.

Someone was watching him.

Goro came to a stop, schooling his face into neutrality and burying his anxiety deep within his chest. Channeling his old Detective Prince charisma, he stepped towards the entrance of the alleyway and pulled his lips into a disarming smile. "Can I help you?" he asked the darkness, standing his ground.

In the dim lighting of the alleyway, he barely made out the glint of a blade. _They're armed and my gun is buried somewhere under Metaverse debris. Fucking wonderful._

"Yeah, actually." The voice coming from the darkness sounded like it belonged to a young male adult; it was slightly nasal, as if the person had a cold. "You look like a city boy. What brings you to shitty ol' Inaba?"

Goro forced his face to remain passive. This was... not what he was expecting, frankly. He blinked doe-like eyes, feigning innocence. "I'm on summer vacation and wanted to sight see a little," he lied, pitching his voice up slightly higher. Maybe this dumbass would attempt to mug him.

Wait. He had no weapon. What the fuck was he doing?

The man in the shadows scoffed, and from his tone of voice, Goro wouldn't be surprised if he had also rolled his eyes. "Dunno why the hell you'd come here. You'll be bored out of your goddamn mind within a week."

"If you don't mind me asking," Goro began saccharinely, plastering a trademark television smile on his face, "why do you live here if you hate it so much?"

"I'm here for work," he answered, and another flash of silver was enough to enlighten Goro on what kind of _work_ this man did. Hell, Goro wasn't much different a few years ago; those were the days Shido held him on a leash, days where Goro was sure he would be victorious in their game. God, he was such an idiot back then.

Goro grabbed hold of those memories, smothered them, and gathered his thoughts. Adding a playful lilt to his voice, he asked, "Am I your next job, _mister_?"

If he was going to die, he could relish in being a little shit in his last moments. And besides, wasn’t this what he deserved? When he had killed for Shido, most of his victims never even knew who held the gun. Whoever the man in front of him was, being killed by a faceless hitman was karma for his past actions.

~~He'd never see Akira again. He'd never fulfill their promise. He would die here, in some dark alley in some backwater town, and he'd never see Akira again.~~

The sharp point of a katana stretched out from the darkness, edge barely touching the exposed skin of Goro's throat. With years of practice in hiding his genuine emotions, Goro hardly flinched.

"Depends on your answer," the man's voice raised in amusement, smirk evident in his tone. "I'm gettin' a weird vibe from you. You ever been to _that_ world?"

_That world_. Goro's mouth was suddenly dry. This man was undoubtedly a Persona user. If Goro were to lie and feign ignorance, the katana would strike forward before Goro could even blink. If he were to tell the truth...

He'd be back where he started - tangled in the web of fate, retying his puppet strings.

Suddenly, the man lowered the blade from Goro's neck. Goro could hear the sword slide back into its sheath, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat.

"No normal person would be that calm with a blade to their neck," the man said, and Goro realized that his answer would have made little difference. "You must be that Akechi kid."

Unable to help himself, Goro's eyes widened slightly at being recognized. Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised, considering the latent ability of Persona users. Perhaps they were immune to the mind wipe that occurred due to Yaldabaoth and the collapse of the Metaverse.

Tentatively, he asked, "You know me?"

"You're that detective, aren't you?" There was a rustle of fabric, perhaps the man crossing his arms. "I've been lookin' for you for like... a few months now? You're a real _sketchy_ guy, Akechi."

Goro bit back a groan. It wouldn't be the first time he was called a variation of _Sketchy Akechi_. Now that the jig was up, he allowed a frown to tug at his lips as he spoke in his actual voice, "Hilarious, aren't you?" He crossed his arms across his chest, narrowing his eyes at the darkness. "Care to reveal yourself? You already know who I am."

When Goro received no response for a few lengthy moments, he wondered if he overstepped.

"... Ugh, shut up, would'ya?"

Just as Goro was about to comment on the delayed response, the figure stepped out of the shadows. The man was a few inches taller than Goro, with a short spiky mess of bright red hair, eyes a stormy blue-gray, and a prominent X-shaped scar across his face. He was abnormally pale, as if he had never seen the sun in his life, and a multitude of scars decorated his skin. He wore a black tank top, a yellow crossbody bag, and white capris, and the yellow and black hilts of his katanas crossed behind him at the hip. How this guy could ever blend into a small backwater town such as Inaba was _beyond_ vexing to Goro.

"Name's Sho. You ever heard of the Shadow Operatives?"

Goro had never heard the term before, but like _hell_ he'd admit that and lose ground. Every conversation was a game of chess, and his silver tongue had been honed during his stint in the public eye. He couldn't lose.

"Perhaps," he said without missing a beat. "Are you a member?"

He was assuming that the Shadow Operatives were a bunch of Persona users, considering the use of the word _Shadow_ in their name. If this Sho guy was a Persona user, it was easy to deduct the other members would be the same. In Goro’s experience, Persona users had a tendency to congregate - as if destiny brought them together.

Sho scowled. "Only recently. Needed the money.” His eyes trailed down Goro as if to size him up before meeting his gaze. "Where the hell've you been all this time, anyway? Case bring you here?"

He averted his eyes, frowning as if in thought. Honestly, it looked more like he was listening to something. Goro strained his ears but he could only hear the quiet humdrum of Inaba's shopping district. Maybe his Persona talked to him, just like how Robin Hood and Loki used to; Hereward was more of a silent sentinel, only making himself known when Goro was in danger. While Goro had been annoyed for all those years of dealing with Robin and Loki's bickering, it was quiet without them. As if spurred by his pang of melancholy, Hereward's energy burned in Goro's chest, a silent but welcoming reminder that he wasn't alone.

Sho glanced back to Goro with a blink. "Never mind. Forgot you weren't a detective anymore. Guess that makes you a little _defective_?"

Goro allowed the irritation bubbling in his chest to climb up his throat and coat his words. "Are these excuses for humor necessary?"

"What? Come on, they're _funny_!" He genuinely looked surprised that Goro failed to find his jokes humorous. Was this guy serious? "Ugh, whatever. Your loss, man."

He tilted his head slightly, as if he were listening for something again. "... Yeah, nearly forgot." He turned back to Goro and reached behind himself, resting his hands on the hilts of his blades. "Are you gonna come with me willingly or do we need to do this the hard way?"

Goro held his ground, Hereward pulsing in his veins as an ubiquitous reminder. Even without his serrated blade or his gun, he still had combat experience and his limited real-world Persona use. Adrenaline shot through his body and his heart rate picked up into a steady fast-beat rhythm.

"Oh, good," Sho's grin was lopsided, causing his scar to stretch unevenly across the bridge of his nose. "I haven't had a good fight in ages!"

Goro glanced behind himself. Even if nobody remembered him, he would prefer to not draw unwanted attention to himself with a fight out in the open. Searching for a compromise, he gestured behind him and said, "We better avoid the residents."

Sho looked ready to rebut; he opened his mouth and... froze for a moment. His eyes were unfocused and the tension in his shoulders vanished completely. When his gaze returned back to Goro with a blink, his eyes were half-lidded and his previous grin morphed into a small smirk.

"You're unarmed," he said coolly, voice deeper than it had been a moment ago, "do you truly plan to fight like that?"

Suddenly, Hereward bristled in warning. While his instincts screamed at him to put as much distance between himself and the man before him, Goro stood his ground, masking his unease with a neutral expression. Even though Sho had had a katana millimeters from his throat a few minutes ago, he was loud, obnoxious, and brash; he acted like a preteen, even if his sword skills were precise. It had been like flicking a switch; right now, he radiated a murderous aura and looked as if he'd slice Goro's throat without a single moment of hesitation.

Sho reached into his pants pocket, metal glinting beneath his fingers. In a split second, he threw something in Goro's direction. Goro caught it with a practiced ease and brought his eyes to whatever sat in his palm. The familiar shape caused his eyes to widen.

"There's your weapon. Are you ready now?"

The sleek silver of a gun stared back at him. Emblazoned on the side were the letters _S.E.E.S._ ; Goro had never heard of this model before, and he assumed it was a custom-made model for the Shadow Operatives. Interestingly enough, there was no safety - only a trigger. That was the only necessary part, after all.

Goro adjusted his grip on the weapon and detested the familiarity of his fingers wrapping around the gun. In a blink, he was fifteen again, prowling the Metaverse with Robin Hood by his side; he didn't have Loki back then and Shido had given him a gun to get the job done. Loki had come after - and it had only been a few months after Isshiki Wakaba and the other scientists were able to artificially force him to awaken to Loki that Shido ordered the hit on her.

After a moment, Goro frowned. Further inspecting the weapon, he realized a major flaw - there was no magazine to slide off. Narrowing his eyes at Sho, he deadpanned, "This is a model gun."

Sho tilted his head with a haughty smirk. "It looks as if you cannot fight then," he said smugly, drawing out his words condescendingly. He fixed Goro with an unamused stare, his previous immaturity and boisterousness a distant memory. "Let's stop wasting time and head back."

Goro cocked an eyebrow. "Do you seriously expect me to follow you?"

"Considering I have two katanas and you have a model gun," he began to step past Goro, walking out into the sunlight with a new-found swagger, "I believe you would be at my mercy."

With a heavy sigh, Goro slid the gun into his pocket. " _Fine_ ," he huffed, "lead the way."

Once they had begun walking, Goro used the moment to observe his surroundings. Inaba was a quiet town with a population likely smaller than Shibuya. If Sho were to slice his neck out here in the open, he would probably get away with it. This shitty backwater town offered him no protection. Even if he were to run, Sho looked agile enough to catch him. Unfortunately, it was in his best interest to follow the redhead until he could figure out an escape plan.

Hearing the sound of rummaging, Goro’s eyes snapped back to his unlikely guide. From the small yellow bag on his back, Sho retrieved a cellphone. It was a flip phone, certainly incapable of installing apps, and Goro wondered how one would enter the Metaverse with a device that outdated. He typed out a short message before flicking it closed and putting it back into his bag.

Allowing his curiosity to get the better of him, he asked, "How do you enter the Metaverse with that?"

Sho glanced over his shoulder at Goro. "What?" Despite the muted nature of his emotions, he seemed genuinely confused.

He asked Goro if he had been to _that other world_. ... He _had_ been referring to the Metaverse, hadn't he?

Goro lowered his voice. "You're a Persona user,” he said slowly. “How do you enter the Metaverse?"

Sho slowed his pace, allowing Goro to catch up. "Is that what you've been calling that world?" His eyes widened slightly, as if in realization. In a quieter voice, he murmured, " _Shit_. That must have been what Kirijo was talking about."

From his earlier haughtiness and careful countenance, Goro could tell Sho was not one to slip up like that. According to his accidental admission, there was another place that Persona users would go besides the Metaverse. He filed the information away for later.

"The other Persona users and I would enter a place called the Metaverse," he said carefully, observing Sho for his reaction. "Your... boss knows about it?"

Sho turned his head back, leaving Goro to become acquainted with bright red spikes. Goro expected to walk the rest of the trip in silence, considering how long their footsteps were the only sound accompanying them. Glancing around, Goro noticed they were entering an area with more people compared to the barrenness of the shopping district. Plastered on the giant building before them was a large sign that read: _JUNES_.

"We have been to a different world," Sho finally said, and Goro's gaze trailed reflexively to the man's back. While he had noticed the countless scars adorning Sho’s skin earlier, he found his eyes tracing all of the small marks covering his arms, his neck, and his shoulder blades. Under the man's shirt, Goro noticed even more scars poking out from beneath the fabric. What the hell had this guy done to earn all of those?

Sho opened the door to the building and stared at him expectantly. "Something interesting catch your eye?" he asked, his raised eyebrow hidden behind the bangs covering his forehead.

Goro blinked, meeting Sho’s gaze. Deciding to keep his thoughts to himself, he shook his head with a resolute, “No.” He stepped forward, holding the door open for himself as he walked inside.

The cold blast of air conditioning paralyzed him for a brief moment; he hadn't realized how unbearably hot it had been outside. It was only the beginning of June, why was it so damn hot? Sweat clung uncomfortably to his skin, despite his t-shirt and slacks.

Taking in his surroundings, Goro belatedly recognized this place as a department store. Food and other grocery displays stretched onward for as far as he could see. Truthfully, Goro hadn’t been to any shopping places besides convenience stores in his recent experience, so the expansiveness of Junes was a pleasant surprise.

“Ah,” Sho said, breaking the long stretch of silence between them. “You’re curious about the scars.”

Goro was too prideful to admit that _yes_ , he was curious, so he continued to hold his tongue. Perhaps Sho took Goro’s silence as an affirmation because he continued talking.

"His-" Sho cut himself off, shaking his head. "An awful man did this."

Goro continued to follow Sho, expecting a follow-up to that comment; surprisingly, it never came. His thoughts trailed to his own scars; they had been born from experimentation and his injuries sustained in the Metaverse. According to Sho, his scars came from... a single man? Once again, Goro noted the deduction, adding his observation to his growing knowledge of Sho. His anxiety goaded him to continue building up a case file of sorts, perhaps out of habit.

Clearing his thoughts, he took in his surroundings once again. They were nearing the end of the produce section and… entering the electronics department? There were TVs as far as the eye could see, and Sho stopped in front of a particularly large one.

Goro blinked owlishly at him. "Why are we stopping here?" he asked, fixing the redhead with a confused look. "Weren't we going back to your headquarters?"

Sho allowed a small smirk to play across his lips. "This is the shortcut. Have you ever travelled by TV before?"

Unable to voice his thoughts, Goro silently worked his mouth. Travelling... by TV? Was this guy insane?

Before Goro could speak, Sho stole a sweeping glance around them. Seeing as the department was nearly empty besides the two of them, he reached his hand towards the flat screen of the television. To Goro's horror, his hand went right through the screen.

Sho's arm was in the TV, the screen rippling around the crook of his elbow. What the fuck.

"Don't make me shove you in here," he said calmly, as if this were a normal, everyday occurrence and Goro’s apprehension was the oddity.

Tentatively, Goro stepped forward. He reached his arm towards the TV, and to his surprise, his fingers went through it as if it were water. He flexed his fingers, disliking the odd sensation against his skin.

He turned towards Sho. "So you just... go in?"

Without any preamble, Sho grabbed Goro by the collar and stepped through the screen, dragging Goro with him.

Goro's vision was filled with white, and black rectangles in the rectangular shape of the television flew past him. Sho's hand was no longer at his neck - rather, his fingers were ready at the hilts of his katanas. Goro’s breath caught in his throat; would they be attacked on the other side?

He squeezed his eyes shut, stomach churning uncomfortably. Entering the Metaverse felt similar to this, the way nausea would overwhelm him and his vestibular system would take a painstakingly long minute to readjust.

After a few moments of working through his disorientation, Goro realized he was laying on his stomach. He opened his eyes, forced down his nausea, and took in a deep breath. Pushing himself to his hands and knees, he looked around. He was on a metal platform, yellow in color and decorated in what looked like a crime scene with black circles and white silhouettes. There were TVs stacked to his side, fitted on top of each other like building blocks, and Sho stood in front of him, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hey." Once again, he had a katana pointed toward Goro in a split second, the silver of the blade glinting at the tip of Goro's nose. His voice was higher pitched, just like it had been when they first met, and it held a tinge of annoyance. "I don't got all day. Get up."

Goro forced himself to his feet. He noted absently that he was still wearing his casual clothes and that his attire hadn't morphed. It made sense, considering this wasn't the Metaverse, but feeling Hereward so intimately close to his heart and only a breath away, it was odd to not be swathed in the blacks and blues of his Metaverse outfit.

Once he was standing, Sho turned his back to him and began to walk away. "Kinda a long walk," he drawled as he rolled his shoulders back. "Better hurry up or your time'll surely be up, _Clock_ echi."

The man laughed boisterously, as if he just told an amazing joke. Ugh. This was going to be a long walk, that was for sure.

Once Goro's stomach settled and he centered himself, he rushed to catch up with the redhead. As much as he hated following Sho's orders, he didn't want to be left alone in this strange place. He fell in step with the man, fingers itching for their usual weapons. He settled for crossing his arms across his chest, hiding his discomfort. Just _being_ in this place made his skin crawl.

"This is inside the TV?" he asked to break the silence and satiate his own curiosity. Honestly, considering the existence of the Metaverse, something as supernatural and absurd as a world inside of a television shouldn’t have fazed Goro.

Sho reached a hand up to the back of his neck and rolled his head around, either to stretch his neck or out of boredom. Maybe he was antsy, too. "Yeah," he cracked a smile, "freaky, isn't it? You're lucky you already have your Persona."

Goro's eyes flicked to Sho in interest. "What do you mean by that, exactly?"

Sho regarded the brunette with a quick glance before returning his gaze forward. "You ever hear about those murder cases from a few years back?" he tilted his head away from Goro, falling silent for a moment. "Hmm. Maybe you were too young for that."

The reason why Inaba seemed familiar burst to the forefront of Goro's mind. When he was thirteen, there had been a string of murder cases that happened in some random small country town; it had been the only notable news from a place like that. Once he had started working in the SIU, he had come across a report on the case, despite it occurring all the way in Inaba. While many of the case’s details remained unknown, the corpses hanging from telephone poles without a discernible cause of death prodded at Goro’s curiosity for years to come. The only concrete evidence listed was a confession by the culprit: one of the detectives working on the case. If that detective was actually the one committing the murders in the first place, it was disturbingly reminiscent of the duality between Detective Prince and Metaverse Hitman Akechi Goro.

"I've heard of it," he said finally, frowning slightly. "A detective killed those people, correct?"

Sho barked a laugh, a far cry from his earlier emotional subtlety. "Yeah, and his name isn't too far off from yours, kid."

Goro wanted to rebut that he wasn't a kid, he was twenty years old _god damn it_ , but he smothered the juvenile remark with a composing breath. Instead, he racked his brain for the details of the case. "He was a detective named..."

"Adachi," Sho spat the name as if it were venom, disgust coating every syllable. "He's an absolute bastard. He's lucky we didn't..." he paused, narrowing his eyes at the ground. "Whatever. Anyway - he was throwin' people into here and their Shadows would kill them."

Goro kept his eyes on his companion, watching the constant mood swings and noting how the cadence of his voice would change. It made him wary, to say the least. In stark contrast to his careful countenance from earlier, Sho seemed to speak without thinking, every emotion flicking across his face; the guy was easier to read than a stop sign. Compared to someone as poker-faced as Akira, reading and understanding Sho was child's play.

"That'd be such a fuckin' awful way to go out, huh," Sho continued, hands resting on his swords. "Killed by someone who looks just like you, tellin' you everything you hate about yourself."

Goro frowned slightly, memories of Shido’s ship and his cognitive double resurfacing in his mind. While Goro had never faced his Shadow, staring down that _puppet_ spouting out the flaws in his plan… It was an unpleasant memory, to say the least. And the cherry on top? Akira and his merry band of Thieves heard it all.

He took in a breath, burying his thoughts. Recomposing himself, he realized he could use Sho’s explanation as a segue. Drawing on the charisma from his Detective Prince days, Goro’s hand moved to his chin and he crossed his arms in contemplation.

"So they were thrown in and killed by their Shadows… how interesting." He glanced at Sho's figure out of the corner of his eye, seeking a reaction as he continued. "I presume you Persona users who solved the case awakened to your Personas by surviving a battle with your Shadow selves then. Would I be correct in that assumption?"

The redhead’s shoulders tensed but he kept walking, not bothering to look in Goro’s direction. Silence settled in the air between them as Goro waited for a reply or change of subject. Maybe this was too personal; Goro’s own experience with that _thing_ from Shido’s ship was rather sensitive, even if it wasn’t exactly his Shadow. Perhaps the better plan of action was to hold his tongue instead of interrogate the man beside him. Sho was unpredictable, and to Goro’s disadvantage, _armed_.

Despite that, the redhead breathed a sigh. "Sort of, yeah. Not _me_ specifically, though; I'm a bit of a special case," Sho replied jovially, turning to him. A grin stretched momentarily across his face before dipping into a thoughtful frown. The man faced forward once more, fingers idly drumming against his sheathed blades. "A real shit stirrer, that bastard," he huffed a small laugh and glanced towards Goro out of the corner of his eye. "So - what about you?"

Goro had never fought his Shadow; he had awakened to Robin Hood on his first trip through Mementos. It had been a fire in his chest, a growing pressure threatening to crush him from the inside out. He couldn’t breathe, his head felt like it was splitting in two - and he had ripped off the mask as it burned against his skin. The second time around, Loki had crawled out of his soul, sharp talons piercing Goro’s insides, forever marring his heart. Madness slipped into his veins as if it were always at home with him. Isshiki and her team had been successful - and Goro had the scars to prove it.

It was funny, then, how he had removed _two_ different masks and was still uncertain of where the real Akechi Goro fell. In the no man’s land of his heart, did it even _matter_?

Hereward hummed, a baritone rendition of Goro’s own voice. Goro recomposed himself, swallowing down his indecisiveness.

“I never had a Shadow,” he said simply.

Sho regarded him with a quick glance, cloudy eyes flicking back to the path before them. "How'd you get your Persona then?" he cracked a smile, "Rip it out of your soul or some shit?"

Goro smirked a little. "Something like that, yes."

The redhead tilted his head to the side, as if he were listening for something. Goro noticed the man did it frequently; it could hardly be considered a coincidence at this point. Perhaps Goro's initial deduction had been right - Sho's Persona must have been talkative, just like Robin and Loki had been.

"Hm," he hummed to himself, fingers tapping idly against the hilts of his blades. He turned back to Goro. "We're almost there. Though - I'm afraid your time with me doesn't end so soon."

“Wonderful,” Goro deadpanned. His wrist brushed against the fabric of his slacks, gloved fingers ghosting over the gun hidden beneath. Perhaps summoning Hereward and knocking Sho into the dark abyss beyond the railings was his most favorable option. He had no particular interest in following Sho to the Shadow Operatives’ headquarters - it was merely to save his skin back in the real world. Now that he was in the TV World, he could feel his Persona a single breath away. While he may not have been armed, it hardly meant he was without a weapon.

“Hey,” Sho called, stopping in his tracks. Goro paused a moment later, ever the obedient dog; his hands clenched into fists at his sides. They stood before a particularly large TV screen, spanning six or seven feet. “We exit through here. D’ya need me to throw you in there or are you gonna go in willingly?”

Goro was _done_ with this caricature of camaraderie. If he were to go through the TV, the Shadow Operatives would never lessen their hold on him. He’d be forcefully dragged back onto the stage of destiny, a gun shoved into his unwilling hand. They wanted a _weapon_. Why else would a group of Persona users be searching for him?

When Goro reached inward, Hereward met him halfway; the black-clad Persona burst into existence at his back. Goro’s very soul flared to life, the fire of rebellion rekindled in his heart. He narrowed his eyes and steeled his resolve, scowling at the man before him.

“I’m armed,” he said.

Sho’s fingers tightened around the hilts of his katanas. He seemed ready to draw his weapons, legs sliding into a fighting position. In a practiced motion, his blades were released from their sheaths. He brandished one in front of him, pointing directly towards his opponent.

“Hi, armed,” he cracked a grin, “I’m Sho.”

Goro faltered and Hereward flickered, fading back into his heart. Sho cackled, throwing his head back. For a brief moment, Goro wondered if the redhead would strike while he was defenseless, but the thought was brushed aside once Sho resheathed his blades.

"That wasn't lame," Sho muttered to himself, head tilted to the side. Goro could only assume the man's Persona was thoroughly opposed to its user's sense of humor. "... Yeah, yeah, _okay_."

Goro debated on sprinting back in the direction they came from. They entered through the TV at the department store - it would make sense to exit through there as well. Sho was obviously distracted in his bantering with his Persona, and the man clearly wasn't meticulous enough to catch wind of Goro's escape plan.

As if hearing his thoughts, Sho's head snapped towards Goro upon his first retreating step. "Hey, Akechi kid!" His hands were at his katanas again. "Did I say you could leave?"

" _I_ decide when I leave," he glared at the man, black-gloved fingers curling into fists. Hereward flickered back into existence, resolve strengthened once again. "Let me go or I _strike_."

Sho met his gaze, cloudy blue eyes unreadable. His lips tugged into a frown, fingers idly drumming the hilts of his swords. "You're such a brat," he groaned. He sounded tired, if anything. "Really that eager for me to beat the shit out of you?"

"Not particularly," Goro cocked his head with a small smile reminiscent of his Detective Prince days. It was easy to hide the fangs behind how tightly-pressed his lips were. In a brief moment of wishfulness, he brushed his fingers over the model gun in his pocket. If Personas were summonable here, perhaps...

The redhead shrugged with a scoff, drawing his blades. "Sho time."

The air shifted. A ghostly figure appeared behind Sho, red eyes glinting behind a golden mask. In the blink of an eye, the Persona and Sho vanished into a void of darkness. Goro drew the gun, focusing on manifesting bullets within the chamber, and breathed past the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Behind you!"

Goro stumbled a few steps forward, narrowly dodging the sweep of Sho's blade. He spun on his heel, aiming the gun at where Sho _should_ have been. Goro's eyes widened at the empty space before him. His breath hitched and-

A foot was pressed to his back, sending Goro sprawling to the floor and his gun flying out of his grip. Hereward rushed into action, drawing his bow and aiming a shot at Sho. Goro struggled for breath and he pushed himself to his hands and knees; his pistol had been thrown a few feet away on impact, metal lying innocently by the flat screen TV he was meant to travel through.

Hereward hovered by his side silently, defending Goro from further attacks as he scampered towards the gun. When he snatched the weapon, he channeled the adrenaline in his veins into something different, something _darker_. Hereward regarded him with an emotionless gaze, as if to ask, _doth thou truly wish for this?_

Goro nodded and Hereward glowed an ominous black and-

_madness swam through his veins, burning him from the inside out. the world inside the tv became redredred and all goro could hear was the frantic pounding of his heartbeat. the gun in his hand was still light, lighter than the one he used in the interrogation room, but it surged with power. goro snarled, knuckles flaring a dangerous white beneath the leather of his gloves. as soon as his eyes spotted a shock of red hair, he pounced._

_sho cussed loudly, but goro was deaf to everything besides his heart. thumpthumpthump-_

_he cocked the gun, metal shaking beneath his fingers. he pulled the trigger._

_sho dropped to the ground in a roll, narrowly avoiding the bullet. as goro stumbled back a step from the recoil, he narrowly missed sho pushing off with his saffron sneakers and rocketing himself towards goro in a tackle._

_hereward manifested rebellion blade, aiming a slash where sho had been a moment ago; the redhead vanished into darkness, leaving behind a disoriented goro. the chaos in his blood was beginning to dilute, his breathing starting to even out. he clenched his right hand into a fist, fingers of his left hand wrapping around the pistol with his index ready on the trigger. where was sho?_

_in the span of a short breath, a well-placed kick to the small of his back sent goro tumbling to the ground, metal burning against his exposed skin. the air was knocked out of his lungs, ribs reverberating due to the impact. he couldn't breathe._

_a katana was pointed at his throat, not unlike his first meeting with sho in that back alley in inaba. was this it? is this how his pathetic life finally ended?_

_a quick slice of the air and - sho returned his blades to their sheaths before reaching a hand out to goro._

_"_ █████████ _."_

_goro watched as sho's lips moved, but his blood was still pounding in his ears. he squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on regulating his breathing, attempting to dispel the madness surging in his heart. call of chaos was too risky to use. it was fine when akira was with him. (akira, akira, akira.) what the fuck was he doing?_

"... You good, kid?" Sho asked, hand still outstretched. "I didn't rough ya up _that_ badly, right?"

The world snapped back into focus. Goro's breath hitched, lungs burning in his chest. He placed the palms of his hands against the floor to brace himself, and he pushed himself up. Sho was still staring down at him but had drawn his hand back upon the realization that Goro would not be taking it.

"Is that your Persona?" he asked after a moment, slowly getting to his feet. Sho's eyes never left him. "Your teleportation trick. It must be a useful tool in assassinations."

Sho scoffed, as if insulted by Goro's observation. "I _wish_ I was allowed to do that kind of stuff." He kicked at the ground idly, tilting his head back. "Ice Queen likes to give me dirty work like finding missing in action detectives."

Goro hid his surprise and kept his face neutral as he absorbed that tidbit of information. He was missing in action. It was evident, considering how he dropped off the radar. Regardless, the revelation itself was absurd, considering the fact that Goro had been wiped from public cognition. Aside from the Phantom Thieves and _apparently_ the Shadow Operatives Sho worked for, Akechi Goro _didn’t exist_.

Goro's lips pulled into a frown. Seeing Sho, another Persona user, caused a resurgence of all of Goro's memories of his time in Tokyo. He left Tokyo to _escape_ his past. Rather than put a bullet in his brain in the apartment from Shido, he decided to leave and atone for all that he had done. He certainly hadn't _done_ any atoning yet, but he planned on doing so once he made enough money to settle down in a half-decent apartment somewhere.

~~A better atonement would be to kill himself. It would be fair to his victims. It would be _retribution_.~~

But here he was - out in the middle of nowhere, drawn back into the supernatural world. He had forcefully been dragged back onto the stage of destiny. What was left besides to perform?

Hereward settled back into his heart, a lone feeling of warmth in his chest. Maybe _this_ was his fate.

He drew in a deep breath, banishing the final remnants of chaos from his veins. "I'll do it."

Sho cracked a grin in response. "Had a change a' heart, kid?"

Goro focused on Hereward's presence and allowed determination to settle on his face. "Something in that vein, perhaps. Now," he allowed a smirk of his own, "who are these _Shadow Operatives_ you work for?"

The redhead began to stride towards the TV, back to Goro. He rolled his shoulders back lazily before glancing back to the former detective. "A buncha pains in my ass, that's what. You comin'?"

Goro stifled a laugh. Maybe Sho wasn't too different from him, after all.

He took a step forward, reassured by Hereward's warmth in his veins, and jumped into the TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comic courtesy of Maru: 
> 
> Fear not, the actual art is in the following chapter.


	2. The Ties That Bind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, the amazing art in this chapter is drawn by [Maru](https://twitter.com/ruruuuundesu)!!

When Goro came to, he was on his back with uneven rocks digging into his skin. His backpack pressed against his shoulders awkwardly, contents jabbing into his bones. The sky above him was cloudy, and the sun seemed to be nearing the horizon. It had been early afternoon when he had arrived in Inaba. Did time pass differently in the TV World?

The sound of shifting gravel from his left reminded Goro he unfortunately still had company. Sho looked down at him, upper body leaning over into Goro's field of vision and shrouding him in shadow. Goro's instincts screamed at him to run, to get to his feet and put as much distance between him and Sho as possible - but he remained motionless. To be completely honest, fear was _far_ from the first emotion he was experiencing. Curiosity, perhaps, was the most prominent.

"Uh, you hit your head or something?" the redhead asked ineloquently, eyebrow raised. "There's better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know."

Goro braced his hands against the ground and pushed himself up. "I _know that_."

Once Goro was standing, he observed his surroundings with a look around. On three sides around him were stacks of televisions, which seemed odd on first, second, _and_ third glance. Why the hell were there so many TVs in this wasteland? Where the hell was _here_ , anyways?

"Something the matter?" Sho asked as he walked towards one of the stacks. Goro watched as the redhead jumped onto the pile with ease, grabbing one of the antennae with a huge grin on his face. "I'm not appreciating your _reception_ , kid. Not a fan?"

Goro stared up at the swordsman, nonplussed by the eccentric behavior. Jumping around on the pile of TVs, Sho's antics almost reminded Goro of Sakamoto, or maybe even that damn cat if he were to really stretch it. Nevertheless, the redhead was full of energy and just _watching_ him bounce around was making Goro tired.

"No," he deadpanned, crossing his arms. To his irritation, he noticed his white shirt was coated in a fresh layer of dirt, his skin was dark from the soot, and the dark fabric of his gloves seemed to be even _darker_ in certain areas. Just his luck.

Sho stared down at him from his stack of TVs, grin splitting his face and stretching his scar unevenly. "You're just like _him_ , aren't ya? Anyone tell you you're no fun?" he paused, lips tugging into a small frown. "Well, _I'm_ telling ya. You're no fun, kid."

Goro fought to keep his eye from twitching. This guy was a real pain in the ass, wasn't he? Had Sho offered any information that was actually worth something after all this time? All Goro had been subjected to was bad puns and the occasional tip about the Shadow Operatives.

 _Actually_. Goro turned up his chin and met Sho's gaze head on. "Is there anything I should know about these Shadow Operatives besides your comment earlier?"

Sho groaned, crossing his arms and leaning heavily against one of the TVs. He looked like a sleepy puppy, somehow. "You're a Persona user so I'm sure this isn't news to you: we fight Shadows and deal with other supernatural issues." He rolled his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be smart?"

Goro balled his hands into fists at the derision. The use of "Shadow" made it _very obvious_ what these Operatives dealt with. The explanation Goro had been looking for had more to do with the TV World. He had been able to summon Hereward there. Did that mean that place was connected to the Metaverse?

Considering their previous conversations, he decided he wasn't going to get a worthwhile answer from Sho. Goro took in a deep breath, exhaling after a moment. He'd dealt with difficult people in the past. His entire _life_ was dealing with difficult people - Sho was irritating, sure, but this was _nothing_ compared to the idiocy he had faced.

In the silence, Goro took another sweeping gaze around him. Aside from the excessive amount of televisions, cell towers trailed off towards the horizon line. They seemed to be in a desolate area, dust and rocks stretching out as far as he could see. Sho had said they were on the way to the Shadow Operatives' headquarters. What kind of organization had its base in a place like this?

Perhaps, Goro mused, the more pressing question asked why this organization was searching for _him_ in particular. He didn't exist. These Persona users that Sho worked with somehow remembered him despite the mindwipe - and they had spent a considerable amount of time in pursuit of him. He could have been _dead_ this entire time; how did they know he was alive? He had given Tokyo the slip after escaping Maruki's reality and he had stayed off the radar for the past year. It irked him, knowing that this organization knew infinitely more about him than he knew of them.

"... You sure?"

Goro's ears caught the sound of Sho mumbling to himself. He kept his back turned, pretending to continue examining his surroundings, and forced his breathing to remain even. As much as the swordsman agitated Goro, his curiosity prodded at him to unravel the mystery that was Sho. While he had been collecting information about the man since they met in that back alley, Goro was still at a loss. Did he even have a family name? What was his past like? Why did his personality switch at the drop of a hat? Why was he working for the Shadow Operatives? His thoughts swelled with endless questions about the redhead that had led him through the streets of Inaba, through that strange TV World, and brought him to the Shadow Operatives' headquarters.

As Goro was busying himself in observing a particularly large rock, he heard Sho scoff. "Fine. Say hi to Scrap for me, will ya?"

Goro kept his back to Sho and nearly turned on instinct at the sound of footsteps. Hereward seemed to bristle in warning, just like he had back in the alleyway. For a fleeting moment, fear gripped his heart and Goro fought to keep his breathing under control. It felt as if the atmosphere had grown heavy and the ground tilted on its axis, leaving him off balance.

"Quite the follower nowadays, _detective_ ," Sho drawled, his voice deeper and laced with slight amusement, just like it had been before they entered the TV. Goro kept his expression neutral, his back still to the man. Sho strode past him, offering him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye as he passed. "Come. This branch of the Shadow Operatives is located underground."

Swallowing his pride, Goro followed. In the back of his mind, he played with the idea that Sho had flipped from light to dark mode, as if his personality had a switch. And, for all Goro knew, it _might have_. Before, Sho had been quick to grin, quick with a joke, and even quicker with his blades. Now, he was more subdued; he bore small smirks, subtle quips, and a calm demeanor.

Just who _was_ this man?

Once again, his gaze trailed to Sho's marred back. Earlier, he'd said that a single man had been the cause of those scars. Considering his skill with his katanas, Goro wondered if those scars were acquired through combat training. Goro's own scars came from abusive foster families, the experimentation performed on him by Isshiki and her researchers, and the wounds he sustained in the Metaverse. Perhaps Sho had earned some of his own scars in that TV World.

"Your hunch wasn't _too_ far off," Sho said, breaking him out of his thoughts. He stepped around the rock Goro had been pretending to investigate and reached into his pocket, retrieving a badge. Goro walked closer, peering around the rock. Sho leaned down and held the badge against the outline of a rectangle in the dust, and the ground at their feet began to light up.

Memories of Shadows' ground-based attacks flashed through his mind, and Goro instinctually danced a step back, fleeing the light. Sho turned to face him, a curious glint in his blue-gray eyes.

"Should I have warned you first?" he asked, as if he genuinely cared if Goro was frightened or not.

Goro bit back a curse and fought to keep his lips from twitching. "I'm not a _child_ , Sho."

"You are twenty years old, correct?" Sho asked, low voice emotionless. He then huffed a short laugh before turning his gaze back to his feet. Distantly, Goro recognized the slight turn of Sho's lips as a smirk. "You are a child to me."

The light at their feet began to die down and Goro vaguely recognized the shape as a trap door. He took a step forward to stand besides Sho, feet scuffing against the dirt. Sho tilted his head towards the noise, ears picking up on the sound. Goro didn't miss the way Sho's fingers twitched in the direction of his blades. It seemed the swordsman's instincts were as sharp as his swords; Goro pushed the information aside for later compilation, adding it to his knowledge of the man at his side.

Goro narrowed his eyes warily. "How old are you?" He attempted to sound casual, but the rough edges of his voice betrayed his intent. Regardless of his delivery, it provided Goro with the opportunity to learn something about Sho in the meantime.

The redhead rolled his shoulders back, swords still easily accessible. "Nearly twenty-three," he answered after a moment, as if he needed to think about it. Age was probably the furthest thing from his mind, but the delay was nearly suspicious. He raised an eyebrow. "Was I correct in my earlier deduction?"

Goro breathed a mirthless laugh, allowing his shoulders to drop. "As of today, yes."

His birthday had never been something to look forward to. As a child, his mother would try her best to celebrate it, but money was hard to come by in their small apartment back in Shinjuku. Most years, it went uncelebrated; his mother had been tired after a long night at work, and Goro would watch Featherman by his lonesome. In the years after her death, it was a reminder of his detonation. When he was working under Shido, his life was on a countdown - he kept track of his birthday solely to know when he turned eighteen. Once he was eighteen, he-

"Happy birthday," Sho said, not unkindly. He had a small smile on his lips, and for the first time in a while, he failed to radiate a murderous aura. "You should be thankful for this opportunity then. You have been staying off the radar for this past year, have you not?"

For a fleeting moment, Goro realized he could shut up. He could hold his tongue, he could stay silent and _not_ reveal his entire past to the stranger he met _today_... but. He had resolved himself to this path. He was going to investigate the Shadow Operatives, and that meant interrogating Sho first. It seemed his habits from being the Detective Prince refused to vanish despite him dropping the mask.

Fine. He could be amiable. He had done it for three years while working under Shido, when he was on the stage of Tokyo and under scrutiny from the entire _world_. Smiles and lies - it was all second nature, really.

"I have," he answered simply. A response - even if the entire truth was left unsaid.

"We-" Sho paused with a small exhale, averting his eyes to the trap door at his feet. "Perhaps we are not much different, Akechi."

Goro forced his face to remain neutral at the change in address. Sho had called him some variation of _kid_ or _detective_ this entire time. It was suspicious, and Hereward prodded at him in curiosity. He pushed the feeling down for now.

Instead, he focused on the door at Sho's feet. At the recognition of his badge, the door opened automatically, light pouring out of the underground bunker and into the world above. Goro squinted against the light, raising an arm to block his eyes as he bit back a hiss.

"Are you some type of nocturnal creature?" Sho asked, the faintest of smirks playing across his lips. He must have found Goro's visceral reaction amusing, the damn bastard. "Never mind that. Follow me."

The strange man headed in first, Goro just a step behind like the obedient dog he knew he was. As they began to descend the stairs, he focused on his guide and continued to work through his observations so far. Sho was three years older than him - and Goro couldn't help the small flare of indignation at the man being a few inches taller than him. To Goro's dismay, it wasn't even attributed to the spikiness of Sho's hair; he was just _taller_. Goro had become accustomed to being the tallest, especially in regards to Akira. It was a small victory, but here with Sho, he was doing anything but _winning_. Even something as trivial as _height_ served to remind Goro of how helpless he currently was.

Goro bit his tongue, the sharp pain distracting him from his thoughts. He followed the redhead down the steps, inspecting the walls as he walked. Running his fingers along it would have accomplished nothing, considering the gloves he was wearing, but the childish desire tugged at him nevertheless. Eventually giving in to the urge and passing it off as an excuse to examine the architecture, he allowed his fingers to drag along the steel. Due to the slight shine of the metal, he parsed that it was on the newer side. The artificial lights installed within the walls must have been what lit up when Sho activated the door. Satisfied with his observation, he decided to move his eyes to the area opening up before him.

The Shadow Operatives' underground base was moderately-sized. It almost reminded Goro of Leblanc, the dim lights embedded in the ceiling emitting a warm orange rather than a fluorescent white. The walls and flooring looked to be steel like the walls encasing the staircase, a far cry from the wood and leather of the cafe. Three tables were placed around the room, covered in equipment, papers, and laptops. Pressed into the corner was a device resembling a chair, but the wires dangling off the overhang suggested otherwise.

"Sho-kun?"

Goro froze in his tracks. From around the bend of the stairs, he watched as a girl approached him and Sho, her long silver hair whipping around her as she walked. She wore a plain light blue shirt and a dark skirt, but the abnormalities of her limbs is what truly struck him. Why was her skin gray and red in places? Was that _metal_...?

"Oh," she paused, looking between Goro and Sho. Recognition flashed in her features when she turned back to Sho. "Minazuki-kun, who is this?"

For the briefest of moments, Goro's thoughts trailed on the girl's change of address. _Minazuki-kun?_ Of course, when the girl began to reach for the _weapon_ on her back, Goro's mind snapped into focus and he nearly pulled Hereward from his heart. The Persona was barely a breath away when the girl brandished her hand out to him instead.

"Name's Labrys," she said, and Goro's brain buffered for a moment to process her accent. Kansai? Perhaps. "Looks like Minazuki-kun is quiet today. You a Persona user or what?"

He blinked, still taking in Labrys' appearance. With her steel limbs, it was obvious she was a robot. But her accent... she sounded like a regular girl. And from the sounds of it, she must have been a Persona user as well.

Collecting his thoughts, he turned towards Sho. The redhead _had_ been uncharacteristically quiet since they arrived in this underground base. Back in the TV World, Sho _wouldn't shut up_. Now, the swordsman stared expectantly at Goro, awaiting an answer.

An answer, _yes_ , because Goro was at their mercy. Had he _ever_ had control of his life? Perhaps his only freedom was that night in Leblanc with Akira, tucked away from the rest of the world. His resolve against the fake reality, and Akira's eventual acceptance of their Palace infiltration - had that been the one single time _he_ chose his own path? Hereward seemed to think so.

"Akechi," he said after a moment. "I am a Persona user, yes."

Labrys' hand was still extended, and Goro's remained at his side. There was no need to be _civil_. What would a handshake accomplish? Binding him to his fate, perhaps.

"You're the one we've been lookin' for then," she said amicably, voice still upbeat. After an awkward moment, she finally retracted her hand. A wobbly smile on her face, Labrys turned towards Sho. "He reminds me a little of _you_ , Minazuki-kun," she said. "Sure you two ain't long lost brothers or somethin'?"

Sho shook his head, a small - fond? - smile on his face. "Considering our past, I wouldn't _completely_ rule out the notion." He paused, as if remembering something. "The boy sends his regards as well."

 _The boy?_ Goro watched as Labrys nodded, meaning she understood what Sho meant by that. These two were a mystery, that was for sure. Goro realized that _he_ was quite the enigma, too. He had been nearly completely erased from existence _twice_. Did people know he existed besides the Phantom Thieves and their conspirators? According to Sho's admission earlier, the Shadow Operatives must have.

Biting the bullet, Goro spoke up. "I don't _exist_. How do you know about me?"

Sho glanced towards Labrys, as if affirming their reasoning. When he turned back to Goro, he spoke in a calm, measured tone. "You were erased from public cognition. However, anyone tracking the information on the case with Shido Masayoshi would find the missing link."

Goro fought to keep his heart from racing. He had been _erased_. No one had known him ever since his return to the original reality. He figured it was due to the strange workings of the Metaverse. What else could it be? Regardless, it seemed the Shadow Operatives had deduced his connection to Shido, despite his supposed disappearance from public cognition.

Labrys put a hand on her hip, metal creaking slightly. "Naoto-kun became suspicious when ya disappeared. It was like ya poofed right inta thin air!"

Once again, Goro kept his face neutral despite his initial surprise. Surely Labrys was talking about Shirogane Naoto, the first coming of the Detective Prince? ... Was she a Persona user as well?

"For all intents and purposes, I very much _did_ vanish," he answered. That had been the _point_.

When he had initially deduced his death in the engine room, Goro realized that Maruki's reality was the only reason he was alive. Just the _idea_ of dancing around in the man's palm, fresh strings tied to his limbs... it made Goro _sick_. He would much rather _die_ than live another day in that fake world. And yet...

Akira had wanted him to live. The bastard wanted to live in that fake reality forever, because Goro would be _alive_. Brainless sentimentality, as expected of the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Didn't Akira know how to let go?

And yet - here he was, over a year later and still walking this earth. Death would have been the easy way out, once he had been spit back into the real world. He had always planned on turning the gun on himself after taking down Shido. What was left for him here? The faces of his victims, the offers of _help_ from the Thieves. Akira, Akira, Akira.

Goro had decided death would accomplish _nothing_. Killing himself wouldn't bring his mother back. It wouldn't bring Isshiki or Okumura or _any_ of his victims back. What he _could_ do was vanish, leave Tokyo behind, and atone by _living_.

"Regardless," he began, catching the glint of surprise in Labrys' crimson eyes at the sudden sound of his voice, "you have been searching for me. Why?"

Sho spoke up, face emotionless. "While I cannot reveal the specifics of our mission, we needed _you_ in particular. You are quite the wealth of information, _detective_."

His emphasis on _detective_ brought a frown to Goro's face. Knowing the means he had used to receive the title, it made him feel _sick_ \- especially if these two personally knew the original Detective Prince. Shirogane worked to earn her title. Goro had killed for it.

"The Phantom Thieves," he said in a bout of hasty rationalization, "why not seek them out? They would be more cooperative, and more importantly, _in existence_."

"They all moved on with their lives," Labrys said, and Goro realized how grating her accent and quirky voice was to his ears, "but _you_ , mister, _disappeared_! You were the missin' link we've been lookin' for all this time."

"Shirogane found it suspicious that, out of all the Phantom Thieves, _you_ were the one who vanished," Sho continued, hands resting on the hilts of his katanas. Despite his fingers hovering over his blades, he made no move to draw his weapons. "The case around Shido has been left at a standstill due to this. Though..." He tilted his head slightly, a smirk pulling at his lips. "I'm sure you will be willing to talk, considering you have willingly entered our domain."

Goro realized, perhaps not for the first time, that he was at a crossroads. He could leave; he could summon Hereward, knock Sho and Labrys back, and make a break for the door. He could leave Inaba and never return.

Or. He could stay, enlighten the Shadow Operatives of his shitty life story, and see where that road took him. He had been nomading and working odd jobs since he had returned to this reality. He was far away from Tokyo, even _farther_ from Akira, and still needed a means to atone.

He could carve his own path. That's what he had told Akira, hadn't he? That he was _done_ being a puppet. Choosing his death had been his first decision free from his strings. Now, over a year later, was it time for his second?

Reaching inward, Goro could feel Hereward pushing himself forward. The answer had always been obvious, hadn't it.

Goro sighed. "I've a few questions for the two of you before I talk."

Sho huffed a small laugh. "It _would_ be rude if _you_ were the only person revealing information, now wouldn't it."

Labrys shifted, suddenly looking unsure of herself. "Hey, uh, Minazuki-kun." At his name, the redhead met her gaze. She continued tentatively, "Are ya sure Mitsuru-san will be okay with this?"

"She was the one searching for him," he answered without missing a beat. "For being a secret organization, we do a poor job of hiding it, do we not? Why change our policy now?"

Labrys _pouted_. "If you two get in trouble, it ain't my fault, ya hear?"

Sho shrugged, smirking once again. "The boy's dealt with worse. Kirijo can scold us all she wants - _we_ were the ones who found her little detective."

Goro opened his mouth but found he had nothing to say. The more Sho talked, the less Goro understood him. Who was the boy Sho kept talking about? Labrys seemed completely unfazed by the epithet.

The robot turned towards him, finally concluding her debate with the swordsman. "Well, what questions do ya have for us, Akechi-kun?"

Goro bit back a wince at the honorific. It had been a long time since he had been addressed as Akechi-kun, and the sound of it dredged up old memories of his life back in Tokyo. He had always been some variation of Akechi or Akechi-kun, so why did it bother him now? And besides - being called Goro would certainly sting more.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he stood taller and flicked his gaze between the two. "You're both members of the Shadow Operatives and Persona users," he began cautiously, "who is your boss?"

"Mitsuru-san!"

"Kirijo."

Goro watched as the two shared a look. Breaking up their moment, he said, "I'm assuming her name is Kirijo Mitsuru?"

Sho turned back to Goro. "She is the current head of the Kirijo Group," he explained before pausing. "Hm. Perhaps we should sit down for this conversation?"

Labrys tilted her head, her ponytail whipping behind her. "Akechi-kun, would you like something to drink?"

Coffee, perhaps. If this were Leblanc, he would have answered immediately - the house blend, a small amount of cream, and a generous helping of sugar. The sweet tooth lie from his Detective Prince days held a morsel of truth in it, but he would _never_ admit that.

Reminding himself that this _wasn't_ Leblanc, that Akira _wasn't_ the one who stood before him, that he was currently situated in the Shadow Operatives' underground headquarters in Inaba and certainly not _Tokyo_ , he sighed. "Water is fine, thank you." It was summer, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was already sweating. The walk and fight earlier did nothing to help, of course.

Goro followed the two over to one of the tables free of clutter. There was a fridge pressed against the wall that Labrys approached, retrieving a pitcher of water and a cup from the cupboard above it. This seemed more like an office with technological upgrades rather than a secret base for Persona users.

Deciding to voice his observations, Goro cleared his throat, catching Sho's attention. "Where is Kirijo-san? Better yet - where are the rest of the Shadow Operatives?"

From the fridge, Labrys answered, "They're at the main base. This is only a side branch."

Sho nodded his affirmation. "That is correct. Labrys happened to stop by today on a delivery run. The others..." He took his seat, rolling his shoulders back. "Busy with their lives, I suppose."

An opening. "What do you do besides your duties here, then?" Goro asked as he sat down across from him, freeing himself from the straps of his backpack and placing the bag at his feet.

The redhead met his gaze defiantly. "Search for missing detectives, as it would be. _You_ were our first major mission, so I suppose you should be honored."

Goro was unsure of whether to feel thankful or affronted. Sho's first major task as a Shadow Operative had been to find Goro. Of course, that brought forward a similar question. "How long have you been searching for me, anyways?"

Sho frowned in thought, averting his eyes for a moment. "We joined around a year ago. ... Seven months, perhaps?"

November 2017. A year after he had killed Akira. Goro remembered spending the entire winter in the temporary apartment he had at the time, curled up on his futon, and only eating when Hereward forced him to. He had burned through a decent amount of Shido's blood money in that lifestyle; once spring came about, he forced himself to leave whatever prefecture he was in and start again.

 _Start again_. Goro clenched his hands into fists, bunching up the fabric of his slacks. "How did you find out about me? My... _connection_ with Shido?"

Sho tilted his head, but it was different from how he had been doing it in their earlier conversations. This gesture seemed more taunting, if anything. "How did you come to be revered as the Detective Prince if you cannot see the holes in your own past?"

Goro leaned back in his seat, affronted by the jab. Had his work under Shido been easy to scope out? Shido's rise to power and Goro's own rise to popularity began around the same time. Not to mention, his connection to the growing attention on the Phantom Thieves during 2016. His… _disappearance_ right before Shido's election, too. If somebody was _really_ looking, would they have been able to figure it out?

Well. If Shirogane's investigation proved anything, it was that _yes_ \- Goro's connection to Shido was obvious to a trained eye. Did the Phantom Thieves know before they bugged his phone? ~~What did Akira think when he found out he was to be killed in that interrogation room?~~

"Admittedly," he began, forcing his thoughts to calm, "I did not earn my title as my predecessor did."

"I believed that occurred due to time constraints and Shido Masayoshi's need for you to be in the spotlight," Sho remarked, "not due to a lack of merit. Were your grades fabricated as well?"

Goro felt a flare of indignation, and without a second thought, seized the feeling in his chest. " _No_. My grades were of my own doing." Collecting his thoughts, he put his hands on his knees and cracked his back with a push. "This is hardly important. So - you discovered my connection with Shido. What then?"

The _chink_ of Labrys placing a glass of water on the table in front of him caught his attention. Goro's eyes flicked to meet her face, offering a quick, "Thank you," before returning his gaze to Sho. The redhead was watching Labrys as she walked back towards one of the computers against the wall.

Sho's eyes returned to Goro in a blink. His face was blank, a sharp contrast to his large grins earlier. "Shirogane had been banned from Tokyo, essentially. Shido had ties to all branches of the government and she was unable to investigate on her own. The rest of the Investigation Team was doing work elsewhere."

"The Investigation Team?" Goro inquired, curiosity getting the best of him.

"Another group of Persona users," he answered without missing a beat. "An irksome bunch, truly. However… they are skilled, despite being the younger group of the Shadow Operatives."

Labrys, back still to them, spoke up. "They've grown on you - you just don't wanna admit it."

Sho rolled his eyes with a small sigh. "We have… _modified_ our views on them in this last year."

Goro's eyes widened slightly. Sho's word choices had been odd since they had entered the base and met up with Labrys. Deciding to confront him about it, he cut in tersely, "You said _we_. Who is this _we_?"

Labrys turned around, meeting Sho's gaze. She seemed to be one step ahead of Goro, perhaps waiting for when he would finally ask about… _whatever this was_. She held her tongue, presumably waiting for Sho to speak up.

The redhead huffed a small laugh. "Well. I suppose you have conversed with us enough to know," he shook his head, as if this were some joke only _he_ knew the punchline to. "You talked with Sho earlier. I am Minazuki."

Goro kept his face neutral, examining _Minazuki_. His voice, mannerisms, and speech pattern were vastly different from Sho's - that was obvious, of course. A split personality, perhaps? He had seen a case or two like that during his detective days, so it wasn't a far stretch.

"Minazuki," he said slowly, testing the name on his tongue. It seemed more fitting for how calm and calculating he was.

"Much better," Minazuki smirked, amusement in his tone.

"You've been a lot betta lately about revealin' that, Minazuki-kun," Labrys remarked, and the swordsman turned his head at the sound of her voice. "Ya used ta tell _anyone_ your entire backstory. Heck, ya told all a' us on the day we metcha!"

Goro watched as Minazuki cringed slightly, and he was reminded of his own loose tongue. When he had stumbled into Leblanc for the second time and seen Futaba there… it was like he couldn't stop himself. He revealed the tragedy of his mother's suicide, his deadbeat father's absence in his life - to people who were _strangers_ , at the time. Apparently Minazuki was similar, if his reaction was anything to go by.

Minazuki sighed, blue-gray eyes trailing to the table in front of him. "The world was about to end," he said with a heavy frown, "what did it matter if I revealed the hardships this boy went through?"

Goro raised his eyebrows at that. "The world was about to end?" He figured he would have _known_ if something of that severity had occurred, but apparently he had overlooked it.

"Six years ago, I made a deal with an entity who was powered by the desire of people who wished to live in solitude. _Kagutsuchi_ ," he spat the name, narrowing his eyes, "outsmarted me. It is thanks to Narukami and Adachi that the world is still here today."

Goro bit back his question about who this Narukami person was. Sho had mentioned Adachi earlier; the detective had been the perpetrator of the foggy day murders when Goro had been in junior high school. He had asked enough questions as is - why make himself look more incompetent?

"You probably didn't even know that happened, huh, Akechi-kun?" Labrys asked, finally taking a seat at their table. She had left her axe leaning by the computer she was at a moment prior, allowing her to sit comfortably. "It was like the Dark Hour, and I betcha don't know about that either."

Minazuki and Labrys, in their small time frame of knowing Goro, sure made him feel like an idiot. He thought he had been in the know, that the entirety of Tokyo had a sheet held before their eyes. Had he truly been blinded from the truth as well? … What _else_ did he not know?

"I didn't have a Persona then," he said tersely, unable to bite back his blithing tone. His ignorance was making him feel foolish. "Is that similar to the… TV World that we were in earlier?"

"Sorta," she hummed, making circles against the ground with her… foot? Whatever one would classify her stub as, rather. "Both have Shadows and you can summon your Persona there, so I guess you could say that."

Goro nodded minutely. At least he was _learning_ something, compared to earlier. For information purposes, he much preferred talking to Minazuki. Even Labrys was more willing to talk compared to Sho.

"Both are similar to the Metaverse as well," he said, crossing his arms across his chest. He turned to Minazuki. "I suppose it makes sense why your phone is outdated: you had no need to enter the Metaverse."

"Traveling through TV is certainly lighter on the wallet," Minazuki said with a smile, and Goro watched as Labrys shared in his mirth. Was the swordsman rare to joke? Compared to Sho, the answer seemed to be obvious. "The boy hardly wanted this one. Kirijo insisted on having some form of communication once we joined the Shadow Operatives."

"Teaching Sho-kun how ta use it _was_ pretty funny." Labrys cracked a smile, earning an eye roll from her companion.

"I'll spare him the embarrassment of sharing the story," Minazuki shot a pointed look in Goro's direction. "I doubt the boy will tell you himself. However, I have learned indulging strangers about our past is… unsavory, to say the least."

Goro held his tongue regarding his own… oversharing tendencies. Walking into Leblanc shattered his inhibitions, and Akira's coffee left him loose-lipped. During his Detective Prince days, filling the silence with his idle chatter had been his downfall. His offhand comment about pancakes foiled his plans. It had been a laughable reason for his revenge plot to come toppling down around him - but Akira lived and Shido was taken down. Had it truly been awful, in the end?

"Perhaps," Goro hummed in response, reaching an arm forward to grab his glass. It would be rude not to drink any of it, and he truly _was_ parched after the events of today. He took a sip and returned the glass to the table. "Back to the matter at hand. There are places similar to the Metaverse. Do you two suppose they are connected?"

"Without a doubt," Minazuki answered without missing a beat. "As far as we know, The Dark Hour occurred in Tatsumi Port and Yakushima. The TV World only exists in Inaba. The Metaverse, according to your experience, is confined to Tokyo. These spaces are spread throughout Japan, and while their appearances are different, their distinct rules of reality are the same."

"We were actually plannin' ta ask you about the Metaverse." Labrys tilted her head, looking at Goro with her big crimson eyes. "But maybe we should wait for Mitsuru-san to get here…"

Goro blinked, leaning forward in his chair. "Kirijo-san is coming here?"

"I informed her when we found you," Minazuki answered, and Goro's thoughts flicked back to Minazuki typing something out on his phone on their trip towards Junes. "For better or worse, she is on her way here as we speak."

So he was meeting the leader of the Shadow Operatives, Kirijo Mitsuru. She was interested in his past with Shido and with the Phantom Thieves. She also had no knowledge of the Metaverse or Mementos. What other business did she have with him?

"Well, while we wait," Labrys said, flicking her gaze between the two men, "why don't we get ta know each otha?"

Goro bit back a heavy sigh. He hoped Kirijo would arrive within the next few minutes or he might have to find a bridge to jump off of.

Minazuki leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest in a perfect mirror of Goro. "Akechi Goro, age twenty, formerly the second advent of the Detective Prince. Has ties to Shido Masayoshi, former Prime Minister of Japan, and the Phantom Thieves of Hearts." He allowed a small smirk to grace his lips. "Is that correct?"

Goro frowned. "Wasn't the point for _me_ to talk about myself?"

"I'm sure you do enough of that," the redhead interjected. "Am I correct?"

After a brief fight with his pride, Goro decided he lost. He answered with silence, turning his gaze to Labrys. "What about you? You're obviously a robot of some sort."

"Oh," she gasped, jolting in her seat slightly. Did she think she wouldn't be included in these icebreakers? "Well, I'm Labrys." Her face morphed into a grimace. "Fifth Generation Anti-Shadow Suppression Weapon."

Goro raised an eyebrow, filing the information away for later. An Anti-Shadow Suppression Weapon? Labrys seemed so… _human_ , if he were to ignore her robotic limbs. From her description, it sounded as if she was created to fight Shadows and nothing else.

"We are not too different," Minazuki said, voice quieter than earlier. Was he ashamed? "This boy was also trained to be a weapon." He sighed, "That was all his father wanted from him, after all. A brainwashed, submissive _dog_ he could-"

Unbidden, Goro's thought trailed back to his own past and Minazuki's words sounded like they were coming from a mile away. Once he had awakened to Robin Hood and seeked out his father, he was trained to be a weapon. After exploring Mementos for a few months, Shido decided Robin Hood wasn't enough. Weakening Shadows wasn't good enough to win him his campaign. Shido had been studying cognitive psience _long_ before that afternoon an orphan recently named Akechi Goro stumbled into his office. Isshiki and her researchers were eager to test the methods of awakening a Persona, and Shido now had a test subject. He had been led into that stark white room and-

Goro squeezed his eyes shut, hugging himself with a white-knuckled grip. He was fifteen again, strapped to a chair. His arms and legs were tied down - a metal helmet was crushing his skull, the strap digging into the skin of his chin. Electricity was shooting through his veins, his heart hammering against his chest - he was choking, he couldn't breathe why was it so hard to breathe he couldn't _breathe_ -

"Hey-"

Someone was holding him by the shoulders. Goro sucked in a large gasp of air, eyes flying open with a start. Minazuki stood in front of him, hands firmly gripping Goro's shoulders. There was the smallest shred of panic in his blue-gray eyes. Labrys stood to his side, mouth agape, hands outstretched.

"Akechi," Minazuki said in a clear voice. Goro focused on the sound, forcing his breaths to slow down. "Breathe with me."

Goro forced himself to breathe. He watched the rise and fall of Minazuki's chest, a steady _inhale one two three release_ , and focused on calming his frantic heartbeat. Minazuki's hands were still on his shoulders, as if to ground him. Labrys had grabbed his glass of water sometime during his panic, and she brandished it to him in silence.

He shut his eyes, maintaining his breathing. Why had thinking about Isshiki sent his thoughts into disarray? The experiments performed on him were nothing new - every time he summoned Loki, the proof of the injustice inflicted upon him was born anew. Looking in the mirror was enough of a reminder. Why had he devolved into panic now, of all times?

"The boy gets like that too," Minazuki began, apropos of nothing. Goro opened his eyes, watching as the swordsman took a step back. "Typically, I would take over, but breathing techniques are quite useful as well."

"Here," Labrys said with a gentle smile on her face, holding the glass of water out to him. "Take slow sips, it should help."

Goro forced himself to nod, reaching his arm forward to take the glass from her. He watched the rippling of the water and realized belatedly that his hand was shaking. Slowly, he brought the glass to his lips and tipped his head back. When he pulled back, he noticed the glass completely void of water. Had he been that thirsty?

Labrys reached out her arm and Goro gave her the glass with a very quiet, "Thank you." He watched as she retreated towards the sink pressed against the wall, focusing on the sound of her footsteps against the metal of the floor.

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

Goro flicked his gaze back to Minazuki. The man still stood before him, but he had moved out of Goro's immediate space. It was oddly comforting, in a way. Goro took a deep breath to alleviate the heaviness of his heart, averted his gaze to his feet, and let out a heavy sigh. "Maybe another time."

"I won't hold you to it," Minazuki said, surprising Goro. He had expected a threat to reveal his trauma, or perhaps a katana to his neck, if one were to skip the pleasantries. Hadn't the Shadow Operatives wanted him for information? Perhaps they _pitied him_.

Goro continued to stare at his shoes, idly tracing the pattern with his eyes. He was still weak, no matter how many masks he hid behind. He was completely vulnerable in that state - if Minazuki and Labrys so wished, they could have killed him right then and there. A single memory could shatter his walls. What kind of weapon was he?

Minazuki sighed, ripping Goro from his thoughts. Without any preamble, he said, "This boy's father trained him to be a weapon. He was isolated from society - the only world he knew was inside that laboratory. He had to kill to survive, and survive he did."

Goro raised his head, watching as Minazuki gripped the hilts of his katanas in barely-contained rage. Akira was like that, too. All cold rage and icy stares when he was angry. Goro had always been red _hot hot hot_ and seething with wrath.

Prompted by Goro's silence, he continued in a quiet, blithing tone. "His father only cared for _results_. This boy became skilled with his blades, but at what cost? That man turned him into a _weapon_. He was a _child_."

Minazuki's hands were shaking, Goro realized.

Labrys approached them, coming to a stop at Minazuki's side. "He's gone now," she said in a whisper, and Goro's ears strained to hear her reassurances. He watched as she took one of Minazuki's hands off his sword and into hers, giving it a small squeeze. "Sho-kun is alive. That's what matters, okay?"

In the silence, they seemed to be wordlessly communicating through their eyes and entwined hands. After a moment, Minazuki sighed. "... _Yes_ , you're right. Perhaps it is time for him to come back." His softened gaze flicked back to Goro. "My interrogation is over, for the time being."

Minazuki turned towards Labrys and offered her a small smile. "You are welcome, in advance."

Goro barely held back his gasp as Minazuki suddenly fell forward into Labrys' arms. Her mouth was agape and she stared down at the limp body in her grasp. "M-Minazuki-kun?"

"Ugh…"

That was unmistakably _Sho's_ voice, and he blinked his eyes open slowly. "Where…?"

"Sho-kun!" Labrys grinned, voice cheery.

The man raised his head to look at her. In his stupor, he stared at her for a moment, and after a few more blinks, he stumbled a few steps backwards. "What the hell?"

Labrys dropped her arms to her sides. "Minazuki-kun-"

"Is a _bastard_ ," Sho finished, averting his eyes from the robot. He turned towards Goro. "Forget whatever he told you, got it?"

Goro, seizing his usual snarkiness, smirked. "That would defeat the purpose of espionage, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, _fuck you_ ," Sho hissed, resting his hands on the hilts of his blades. "I hope you don't join us. If I have to deal with _another_ shitty detective, I might add to my body count."

"He doesn't mean that," Labrys spoke up with a small smile.

Sho put a hand to his head with a grimace. "Shut it, Scrap." Despite the harshness of his words, his tone was softer.

Goro allowed the rest of Sho and Labrys' chatter to fade into the background. It seemed that Sho had no recollection from when Minazuki was the one in control. On the other hand, Minazuki actively communicated with Sho when the latter was in control. Even after their lengthy conversation, Goro was still at a loss: just _who_ was Minazuki Sho?

A child soldier - experimented on in a way not dissimilar to Goro. Was Sho's Persona artificially awakened? Did that golden-masked Persona fight against Sho's commands like Loki had? Regardless of the answer, they both had the scars of their pasts to prove it.

Goro was startled out of his thoughts at the sound of heels clicking against the ground. He blinked, whirling his head around towards the stairs.

Approaching him was a lean woman with fair skin. Her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders, covering the beginnings of the black suit she wore. While the sound of her heeled boots caught Goro's attention, his eyes stalled on the rapier and gun holstered on either hip.

 _She's twice as armed as me_ , he thought to himself in his stupor. _One misstep and my life is forfeit._

"Akechi Goro," she called out smoothly, her authority evident in every _syllable_. "I am Kirijo Mitsuru, current head of the Kirijo Group and the Shadow Operatives. Considering your connection to Shido Masayoshi and the Phantom Thieves of Hearts' cases, I have business with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, personal headcanon that Sho's birthday is 8/28/95, making him a year younger than Yu/Yosuke/Chie/Yukiko and three years older than Goro. Another thing to note would probably be that I spent about two hours comparing official art and character models while trying to figure out a canon height for Sho. So, after meticulous research and comparing inconsistent art, I'd put him at 6'0" in canon and 6'2" for this fic because it's six years after Ultimax. Goro is canonically 5'10", but I figure he could hit 5'11" by a year after Royal.


	3. He Who Decides The Truth

Goro defiantly met the gaze of the woman standing before him. She towered over him with her heels, considering he was still seated. He fought back the immediate instinct to stand up, stretch out his back, and look down at her from the bridge of his nose. Narrowing his eyes and compacting every ounce of his determination into his gaze would have to be sufficient enough.

“What business do you have with me?” he asked, the slightest edge to his voice. He would not be subservient to anyone.

She put a hand to her hip, fingers brushing against the gun holstered on her belt. “I trust I do not have to explain further,” she said, not unkindly. “You were closely involved in the case with former Prime Minister Shido Masayoshi. Not to mention your ties with the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.”

“Perhaps,” he allowed, sitting up straighter. His shoulders rubbed against the steel back of the chair, sending the smallest chill down his spine. “There were _many_ people involved with Shido. He had ties in every corner of Tokyo. The Phantom Thieves were a national phenomenon and I was a detective. What is there to say?”

She hummed, a smile gracing her face. “Quite a lot, if you were to fully investigate,” Kirijo answered without missing a beat. Poised like this, she fit the role of leader to a T. “After Shido was removed from office and sentenced to prison after his confession, you vanished.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, determined gaze trained on him. “Why was that?”

Goro kept his face neutral, belying the cacophony of emotions tumbling underneath. Shido had nearly _killed him_. After his fight with the Phantom Thieves in the engine room of Shido’s ship, that… _thing_ wearing Goro’s face appeared with a gun and sang Goro’s requiem. That puppet’s bullet had struck him in the chest, but it missed any vital areas. It was difficult to slip through the vent at his feet and escape back to the real world. Call of Chaos still burned in his veins, clouding his judgement. He had wanted to _die_ , back there on the wrong side of the bulkhead door. His heart, the part of him that Robin Hood and Loki seemed to be - it wanted him to _live_.

“In the simplest terms, I died,” he said after a moment. It was easier than explaining what occurred during that endless December.

“Yeah?” Sho asked, and Goro barely refrained from turning his head towards the sudden sound. Absorbed in his thoughts and conversation with Kirijo, he nearly forgot about the other two people in the room. “Let me guess. You dropped off the face of the earth after that one too, huh?”

Had Sho also…?

Kirijo spoke up, reining the room’s attention back onto her. “Any trace of you vanished from all public records, as if you suddenly ceased to exist at the end of Shido’s campaign.”

Testing the waters, Goro cautiously asked, “How do you know about me?”

“Naoto-kun,” Labrys explained, voice more subdued than her usual upbeat tone. “We were already so deep into the investigation with everythin’ goin’ on in Tokyo. Naoto-kun had been keepin’ tabs on all of those politicians and she even found out the civilian identities of the Phantom Thieves.”

“The other Phantom Thieves,” Kirijo continued, and Goro’s eyes trailed back to her, “they continued their lives after this event.”

Goro’s lips turned up wryly. “And me?”

“Gone,” Sho scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest. “Everyone forgot you and you vanished.”

After waking up in the true reality, Goro had decided time away from Tokyo was necessary. Time away from his past. Time away from the Phantom Thieves. He needed to figure out his life, and Akira reaching out his hand was the last thing he needed. Everyone believing him dead after the fight with Maruki was perfect. Being erased from public cognition was the best thing that could have happened to him.

“It was wonderful,” his smile turned bitter, a knife’s edge upon his lips, “but _someone_ decided my time wasn’t over just yet.”

Sho shrugged with a small chuckle. “I just did my job, kid.” He moved his head, gesturing towards his boss half-heartedly. “If you wanna blame someone, it’s Kirijo.”

“That’s enough, Sho,” Kirijo chided, and miraculously Sho shut his mouth. She turned back to Goro. “Akechi, you are not under any custody. All I am asking from you is your role in these incidents. You may leave after everything has been said and done. Am I clear?”

For a fleeting moment, Goro entertained the thought of slipping forward, snatching Kirijo’s pistol, and busting his way out of the Shadow Operatives’ headquarters. That could be his easiest way out of this scenario short of murder. Hereward could provide him time to procure the weapon and make it above ground.

He pushed the thought back immediately. He had resolved to play nice with the Shadow Operatives for the time being. He still retained his goal of scouting out more information on the group, as well as unraveling the mystery of its members. What would revealing his connection to Shido do now? The man was rotting away in prison and Goro didn’t exist. What was there to lose?

“Yes,” he nodded, and he bit back a smirk at the silent surprise in Kirijo’s eyes. She had expected resistance. “I have quite the history with Shido, as it turns out.”

Sho rolled his shoulders back, an idle quirk of his. “Lemme guess. He your dad or something?”

A bitter smile crawled onto Goro’s face when he said, “ _Yes_ , actually.”

“Wait, seriously?” Sho gawked, and he huffed a short laugh. “Guess we both have pretty shitty dads, huh?”

Goro set aside the information for later, turning his attention back to Kirijo. “Shido Masayoshi is my father. Not that anyone aside from the Phantom Thieves and the bastard himself would know.”

“I would take it he was absent from your life?” the woman asked. Her voice lilted up in interest, finally grasping onto a strand of information. “There were no records of your familial connection, even _before_ you were erased.”

“He abandoned my mother once she became pregnant.” He narrowed his eyes, disgust crawling up his throat. “I didn’t even know his name until I read it on my mother’s suicide note.”

“That’s awful!” Labrys gasped, crimson eyes wide. “He just… went on with his life without you guys?”

“Yes,” Goro answered in a hiss, grimace still present. Speaking of his past, _especially_ regarding Shido - it made him feel _sick_. “By the time I truly found out about him, he was a high-ranked government official. What could an orphan boy such as myself do to a man in power?”

Kirijo shifted her weight, removing her hand from her hip. “Perhaps I should take a seat. I feel as though this will be a long conversation.”

“This guy sure likes to run his mouth,” Sho said with a cheeky grin. “Isn’t that right, Akechi Gor-overshare-o?”

Goro fought to keep his eye from twitching. Hilarious and original. Clearing his throat, he said, “If I am to tell the entire story, that _may_ be the best choice.”

“Your usual?” Labrys asked, and Kirijo nodded in response. The android strode towards the kitchen section of the base, presumably to make whatever Kirijo’s _usual_ was.

Sho leaned his back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. The sheaths of his katanas bumped against the steel, emitting a small _ding_ upon contact. Goro watched as Kirijo took the seat opposite to him, the one Minazuki had sat in earlier during his conversation with Goro.

“So,” Kirijo began once she was seated. Her back was straight, leg crossed over at her knee. She looked the part of a business woman, dressed in her suit and holding that noble aura, presumably from her expensive - and most likely pressured - upbringing. No wonder she was the leader of the Shadow Operatives and the head of the Kirijo Group. “Shido Masayoshi is your father. You were placed into the foster care system after your mother’s suicide. What then?”

Goro huffed a laugh. “I entered the Metaverse for the first time.”

Kirijo blinked, nonplussed by the twist in his story. “I assume you awakened to your Persona there.”

“Robin Hood,” Goro nodded, and he noticed Sho shift out of the corner of his eye. Right - Sho had seen Hereward. The name Robin Hood must have been a surprise. “I was surrounded by Shadows. I believed myself as good as dead.”

Kirijo nodded, an unreadable expression on her face. “A situation causing extreme mental stress.”

“Yes. I was mortified.” Goro felt a small tug of his lips, remembering his first awakening. “But suddenly, my chest felt tight. My head was _pounding_ \- and I heard a voice. It was like something was inside, pushing itself out. There was a mask on my face and I ripped it off without a second thought.” His smile grew bitter, his voice losing its passion. “I would have done _anything_ for my justice, back then.”

“Anything?” Kirijo asked, the obvious response. Labrys placed a cup of tea in front of the woman with a small smile before returning to the computer on the other side of the room. “Thank you, Labrys.”

“I decided to seek out my father,” Goro laughed, a short, humorless thing. “I thought he would want me. I could be useful to him, now that I had a Persona. He had abandoned me in a world no one wanted me - but I was no longer just a garbage child.”

Sho laughed at that for a reason unbeknownst to Goro. Kirijo’s eyes flicked to the redhead for a brief moment, the corners of her lips dipping down, before returning her gaze to Goro. She reached forward and took her cup into her hands, taking a sip. “I assume you began to work under Shido after that.”

“He was familiar with cognitive psience, as it turned out. It made explaining my powers easier.” Goro put his hands on his knees and pushed to straighten his back, an old habit of his. “So. He would give me a list of targets and I would deal with them.”

“Did you kill their Shadows?” Kirijo asked, eyes not masking her forlorn expression.

“That came later,” he said with a small sigh. “At first, I did espionage. Shadows cannot lie, so finding political secrets was easy.” He averted his eyes for a moment, watching the ripples in Kirijo’s tea absently. “Shido would use that information to expose other politicians and strengthen his own campaign.”

She placed her cup back onto the table with a quiet _chink_. “He wanted more from you after that, I presume.”

“Information was helpful,” Goro grimaced, gripping his knees. Kirijo didn’t need to see his shaking hands. “Incapacitating his competition was better in the long run.”

Kirijo leaned forward, folding her hands over her lap, and time seemed to freeze when she asked, “And how did you accomplish that?”

_Being led into a small room. Being sat down on a chair, tied down, and attached to more machines than he could count. A helmet pressed against his head, strap digging into the skin of his chin. Injections, pills - the thrum of electricity through his veins. Something clawing in his chest, screaming to be let out._

“Loki,” he said quietly. “My second Persona.”

Sho huffed a mirthless laugh. “You’re a Wildcard, huh.” He sounded tired, as if listening to Goro and Kirijo’s conversation had exhausted him.

“Wildcard?” Goro asked tentatively. He had never heard of the term before. Was it terminology exclusive to the Shadow Operatives?

“Wildcards are those who can call upon the power of multiple Personas,” Kirijo answered. “They are rare, but we have known a small handful to exist.”

That was what Akira was, wasn’t it? A Wildcard. A fitting name for Joker. It made him even _more_ special.

Goro had only known the powers of Robin Hood and Loki. Robin Hood came naturally - like slipping off a mask and facing the world. Loki had been born in blood and scars - torn from his soul, splitting his heart. Nothing about that was natural. It was only when Robin Hood and Loki fused into Hereward during that cold February night hidden in Leblanc that everything made _sense_.

He wasn’t a Wildcard - not in the sense that Akira was, anyway. Perhaps Robin Hood and Loki had always been two halves of the same whole. He was never meant to have both.

“Oh?” Kirijo wore a small smile. “Perhaps this sounds familiar to you.”

“Perhaps,” he parroted, meeting her eyes. They were brown, almost red under the artificial lights, and they belied a cold fury underneath. “I suppose I knew one of these… _Wildcards_.”

The woman tilted her head slightly, a smile pulling at her lips. “The Leader of the Phantom Thieves, Joker,” she paused, and Goro’s breath caught in anticipation. “Civilian name Kurusu Akira. Am I correct?”

Realizing his shoulders had hitched up with his tension, he lowered them, sinking back into his seat. “Yes,” he said. “ _He’s_ the Wildcard, not me.”

“You have two Personas,” Kirijo stated, as if it were fact. “You hold the power of the Wildcard.”

Sho cut in, “Not exactly, Ice Queen.”

Kirijo looked at the man out of the corner of her eye, a brow quirking up. “What do you mean by that, Sho?”

The redhead scoffed a laugh, pushing himself off the wall and walking over to their table. He stopped once he was next to Goro and placed his hand on Goro’s shoulder. “Kid had one Persona. We didn’t sense any others.”

Goro pulled his arm away, leaving Sho’s hand to meet empty air. “Robin Hood and Loki fused into Hereward. I have a single Persona.”

Kirijo leaned back in her seat, looking over him appraisingly. “I have never seen a case like this. Perhaps you are an unorthodox Wildcard.”

Sho hummed solemnly. Before Goro could inquire about it, Labrys spoke up from the other side of the room. “Sis is one a’ those too, ain’t she?”

Kirijo regarded Labrys’ question with a small frown. “Not anymore.”

 _Not anymore?_ Goro pondered the response - had Labrys’ sister been a case like him? He wasn’t really a Wildcard, not in the sense that someone like Akira was. Who’s to say he was the only unorthodox case?

“Maybe she overheated,” Sho said unhelpfully. “Toasted one too many times.”

Labrys cocked her head, naïvety plain on her face. “But Sis doesn’t have a toastin’ function…”

Sho cracked a grin. “I’m just jokin’, Scrap.”

The solemn mood had faded in an instant - Sho and Labrys began to bicker, and Kirijo sipped at her tea in contemplation. Goro focused on the woman, able to fully analyze her without the tension of their conversation.

Kirijo Mitsuru, a woman most likely in her late-twenties and didn’t look a day over nineteen. Her face was mature, features soft in peace and hardened in times of determination. She was the head of the Kirijo Group - an organization he still wanted more information on - and the Shadow Operatives, a secret branch devoted to dealing with Shadows and other supernatural issues. How had she gotten involved in this sort of lifestyle?

Considering Goro’s own past, he figured people got dragged into this sort of life against their will. He had no desire to claw through the Metaverse for survival. He never imagined he would be enacting a revenge plot against his estranged father. God or demon - perhaps it was easier to label Yaldabaoth as _both_ \- pulled him into this life. Fate had always been written for him. Even before Shido and Maruki, had Goro ever truly known free will?

“Wildcards,” he began, catching Kirijo’s attention, “how do they obtain their power?”

The woman removed her tea cup from her lips, her face impassive. “We… do not have an exact explanation, currently.”

Thinking back to the Phantom Thieves, especially the fact that Kirijo already knew about Joker’s power, Goro came to a realization. “That’s why you pursued me.”

Kirijo took a sip, lengthening the silence. “One reason out of many,” she said.

Goro could see the barest of threads dangling before him. Kirijo had opened a door to her motivations - all that was left to do was slide his foot in before it closed.

“We discussed my connection with Shido and came to the conclusion I am not a Wildcard.” He narrowed his eyes, voice hardening in determination. “What other reasons did you seek me out?”

Kirijo’s body language was rigid, as if she were hiding her true reaction to Goro’s question. Goro could see himself in her shape, hiding his tells and plastering a television smile on his face. His deduction unsettled her. The real question was _why_.

“Shirogane found records during her investigation,” she explained slowly, “of your past experiences with a branch of Ergo Research.”

Goro’s heart skipped a beat. His chest felt tight, and the chair was shaking - _he_ was shaking. Hereward burned in his veins, a reassuring, _Breathe, Goro,_ and he focused on the command. He sucked in a breath. _Breathe_.

There was a sound to his right and Goro’s eyes trailed towards the origin. Sho’s fists were clenched, body trembling with the tension. His eyes were hidden beneath his bangs. What-

Kirijo’s voice was solemn when she said, “That’s where your second Persona was born, wasn’t it.”

Isshiki had seemed remorseful, experimenting on a child not much older than her own daughter. Her fellow researchers failed to share the same sentiment - Shido paid well, as it would seem. Goro was more surprised by the fact these records existed in the first place. Shido had always been meticulous when it came to erasing evidence. There was no paper trail left behind during his campaign. Why had his experimentation been documented?

Goro stared at his shaking hands and realized dumbly that perhaps, Isshiki did that on purpose. Shido had paid her and most likely threatened her with Futaba’s life if she disobeyed. Isshiki had always seemed pained when she strapped him down. She must have known she would be killed for being too deep in Shido’s web.

Isshiki experimented on him because she had no other choice. Futaba could have been killed easily if she rebelled. Would Goro have been ordered to carry out the hit? The thought made him sick.

Grounding himself in the present, Goro nodded slowly. “Yes. I never should have awakened to Loki.” He frowned, allowing his shoulders to sink. “I’ve no reason to believe I’m a Wildcard, not when my second Persona was awakened unnaturally.”

Surprisingly, it was Sho who spoke up next. “You ever been to the Velvet Room?”

Kirijo’s eyes flicked to the redhead, icy gaze dangerous. Distantly, Goro noted that the Velvet Room must have been classified information.

“ _I_ haven’t,” he answered truthfully, drawing Kirijo and Sho’s attention back to him. “The other Thieves have, but Joker especially.”

Kirijo nodded to herself, the warning in her gaze evaporating. “You know of its existence, however.”

“I do,” he hummed. He turned towards Sho and raised an eyebrow. “Why are you asking?”

Sho bristled, hands reflexively moving to the hilts of his blades - a defense mechanism? “Just wonderin’, is all. Sheesh, can’t a guy ask a question without gettin’ interrogated?”

“I was a detective,” Goro answered flatly. “You enjoyed bringing that up incessantly.”

Sho looked at Goro as if he had grown a second head, then - he tilted his head slightly. He blinked and turned back to Goro. “ _He_ was the one bringing that up. Not me.”

Right - Minazuki had been the one to take a liking to the title _detective_. “Regardless,” Goro cut through his thoughts, back to his initial question, “you know about the Velvet Room.”

“Akechi,” Kirijo interrupted, “ _all_ of the Shadow Operatives are privy to knowledge about the Velvet Room.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Goro watched Labrys silently work her mouth. She had wanted to say something. What information was she hiding? … What was Kirijo covering up?

“Fine,” he sighed. He’d investigate later. “Now that we've discussed your initial questions, is there anything else you wanted from me?”

Kirijo, betraying her earlier stiffness, offered him a small smile. “This is a rather large request, actually. Are you willing to listen to my proposition?”

Sho groaned and began to walk away. “I already know where this is going.”

Kirijo’s eyes trailed after Sho as he headed up the stairs and exited the base. She sighed, the sound almost fond, and glanced towards Labrys. “Your boyfriend’s a piece of work, isn’t he.”

Labrys smiled sheepishly, “Yeah, just a little.” Her crimson eyes flicked towards the stairs before returning to Kirijo. “Ya mind if I go check on ‘im?”

The woman nodded, and Labrys hurried towards the exit. After she left, Kirijo looked back towards Goro. “Perhaps it’s better we’re alone now,” she hummed.

Goro dropped his voice to its natural register, eyes narrowed in wariness. “What exactly did you want me for?”

Kirijo blinked, as if surprised by his question. “I figured it was obvious by now.”

He bit back a snarl. “ _No_ ,” he hissed, “I’ll ask again. Why did you spend so long hunting me down? What do you _want_ from me?”

“Akechi Goro,” she said, leaning forward. To his surprise, she held her hand out to him. A… handshake? “There is nothing for you anymore. You do not exist in this world. I ask that you use your powers for good.”

Goro stared at her hand as if it were a weapon pointed directly at his heart. Considering what she was about to offer him, perhaps it _was_. “You want me to join the Shadow Operatives,” he stated - it wasn’t a question. Her explanation and extended hand were enough. “What will you do if I decline?”

“ _I_ won’t do anything,” she answered coolly. “What will _you_ do? You have had no purpose in life after Shido Masayoshi was incarcerated. You do not exist outside of the Phantom Thieves and the Shadow Operatives.” She lowered her eyes, her voice losing some of the quiet intensity it previously held. “What _else_ is there to do?”

 _A lifeline_ , Goro realized after a moment, _she’s offering me another chance_.

His eyes remained on her hand. Kirijo was right - there was nothing for him, anymore. Shido was in prison. Maruki’s puppet show was over. The Phantom Thieves had moved on with their lives. Goro was still alive, living aimlessly, and without purpose. He had resolved to atone for his actions.

He raised his gaze and reached out his hand. “I’ve nothing else to do,” he remarked with a smirk. “I suppose I’ve no other choice but to join.”

Kirijo returned his handshake, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Welcome to the team, Akechi.”

Shaking her hand, Goro felt as if a new door had been opened before him. This was different from his first handshake with Shido, the exact moment he had sold his soul away to the devil. Binding his life to Shido was a contract created in hell. Joining the Shadow Operatives - it felt more like his first real job.

 _New Game Plus_ , as Futaba might say. He thought that’s what the phrase meant, at least. Regardless, this was a chance at a new life. This was a step into the unknown - far from Tokyo, from the Thieves, from Akira.

For better or for worse, hope swelled in his chest. Hereward seemed to smile and his warmth surged in the depths of Goro’s heart.

This was his new truth.

A smile, his first genuine one in a long time, found its home on his lips. “Thank you, Kirijo-san.”

“Mitsuru,” she interrupted, finally releasing his hand. “You’re a Shadow Operative now. Mitsuru is fine.”

He nodded. “Mitsuru-san, then.”

Before the moment could settle, the sound of creaking metal caught Goro’s attention. Two pairs of footsteps could be heard heading down the stairs.

“Is the detective kid our new member?” Sho asked, disgust evident in his tone. “Guess that means I’m finally not the newbie.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Mitsuru said, her chiding tone returning like a second skin, “Akechi will be working under us now.”

The two walked towards their table, Sho stopping at Goro’s right and Labrys taking her seat between him and Mitsuru.

“Oh, cool!” The android grinned - she was happy about him joining? Maybe it was just in her nature to be perky about everything all the time. “It’s nice to finally have a new person afta all this time.”

Goro raised an eyebrow at her. “Are new members that difficult to come by?”

Mitsuru sighed. “Sho and Minazuki were our newest members. Before them was Labrys.”

“Six years ago,” Sho said, his voice heavy with… something. Goro couldn’t place it. “So there was a five year gap between us.”

“Ya coulda joined earlier, y’know,” Labrys said, her tone hopeful.

Sho averted his eyes, a small frown pulling his lips downward. “I had other stuff to deal with, back then.”

Goro waited for him to elaborate further but the explanation never came. Maybe Sho knew how to keep his mouth shut, compared to Minazuki. It was odd to think about, considering their vastly different dispositions.

After a lengthy moment, Goro decided to break the silence in the room. “So. What now?”

“Typically we perform a background check,” Mitsuru tilted her head, a playful lilt to her voice. “As no documentation exists on Akechi Goro, I suppose we will have to accept you in good faith.”

“Cross us and I cross you,” Sho threatened, blue-gray eyes narrowed in warning. “You like your head attached to your neck, right?”

“Sho-kun,” Labrys said warily with a frown, “don’t threaten him as soon as he joins.”

The redhead scoffed. “Just sayin’.”

“Suppose I follow your rules,” Goro cut in, voice neutral. “My role is to be dispatched in the case of Shadow activity?”

“Among other things, of course,” Mitsuru answered deftly. She stood from her seat, towering over Goro in an instant. “I will keep in contact with Labrys and Sho. I have business back in Tatsumi Port, so I must be leaving.”

“Already?” Labrys asked with a pout. “Well... tell Sis I said hi.”

“Of course,” she nodded. She turned towards Sho and asked, “Any final requests?”

The swordsman tilted his head, a sign Minazuki was telling him something. After a moment, he returned his gaze to Mitsuru. “ _He_ says he’ll update you on Detective over here.”

“Thank you.” She regarded Sho with a small smile before finally turning her gaze to Goro. “Any questions before I leave?”

Straight to the point and no nonsense, similar to Nijima Makoto. Unlike the younger Nijima, Goro could find it in himself to respect her. Kirijo Mitsuru made a wonderful leader, evidently.

He had many questions - about the Kirijo Group, her backstory, and the origins of the Shadow Operatives. What held his tongue was the obvious fact: they had just met. She had no reason to tell Goro of these things. He would have to wait until Mitsuru trusted him.

“Nothing right now,” he answered. Unconsciously, he plastered a smile on his face reminiscent of his Detective Prince days and said, “Thank you for allowing me to join, Mitsuru-san.”

“No need to be saccharine,” she said, and Goro’s fake smile instantly faltered. “This isn’t televised.”

Unhelpfully, Sho whistled. “Busted.”

Goro smiled crookedly, despite himself. “Old habits die hard, as it would seem.”

“Regardless,” Mitsuru offered a small nod, “welcome to the team.”

Without further delay, Mitsuru left. The echoes of her heels resonated throughout the space long after she left, and Goro focused on the reverberations over the sound of his own heartbeat. Had he really slipped back into his Detective Prince persona without realizing it? It had been a long time since that had happened last. Before Maruki’s endless January, perhaps.

“You okay?”

Goro met the concerned gaze of Labrys, her lips parted slightly. He willed his heartbeat to slow down, something he recognized as a futile effort. Attempting to remain civil, he removed the edge from his voice when he tersely answered, “Fine.”

“And Kirijo said _I_ was the piece of work,” Sho grumbled at his side. Goro could hardly work up the motivation to feel insulted. He had begun to entertain the idea of leaving the base for some fresh air when Sho began tentatively, “... Ergo, huh?”

He blinked in response, turning his gaze towards the redhead. His mouth felt dry. “Yes. Ergo researchers were the ones to experiment on me.”

Sho sighed something close to a laugh. “That’s ringing a bell, sadly.”

Labrys looked between the two of them. “Want me ta leave you two alone?” It was a thoughtful request, so the robot must have had the capacity to experience emotions. Or maybe she was just talented in feigning it.

“‘S fine,” Sho muttered, frown deepening. “You know all about ‘em, anyway.”

Goro watched the android bounce from foot to foot anxiously. With those stubs, the motion seemed more unnatural. She turned towards him and asked, “You okay with that, Akechi-kun?”

He pushed back his initial rejection. Labrys heard the majority of his conversation with Mitsuru. The experimentation performed on him was nothing new. He shook his head and said, “No harm in it. You already know, after all.”

Sho walked towards the seat Mitsuru had sat in and slumped down onto it. Honestly, Goro was surprised it didn’t break from the sudden weight. The redhead crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back, tilting the chair onto its hind legs.

“Ergo Research and I have history,” he began, blue-gray eyes looking somewhere past Goro. Maybe they were in the past and Sho was completely blind to the present. “I pretty much grew up there.”

Goro parted his lips and considered his thoughts before he spoke. After a moment, he asked, “You were a child test subject, right?”

The swordsman smiled sadly, expression bittersweet. “The very best.”

Despite the admission, Sho almost seemed _proud_ of his awful past. Goro frowned; _nothing_ about the experimentation he underwent was pleasant. He gained Loki. Was the pain worth the trauma he lived with every single day of his life?

Hereward pulsed in his veins, a quiet warmth coursing through his blood. _Yes_. Goro had suffered extensively throughout his life. At least he had something to show for his hardships.

Goro allowed his shoulders to sink and rested his hands in his lap. “I’m assuming you learned your sword prowess there.”

“At first, yeah,” Sho shrugged nonchalantly. His voice was casual, as if the trauma he dealt with as a child was long-since buried. For all Goro knew, it _was_. “Kinda had to fight to survive. Lab was a dog eat dog kinda world, y’know?”

Goro could sympathize, just a little bit. He had fought every day of his life, after all.

Sho continued, prompted by Goro’s silence. “Dad gave me a knife and I worked up from there.”

“Ikutsuki Shuji,” Labrys growled as she took the seat between the two of them, the metal of the chair creaking against her added weight. Goro was slightly taken aback; he had never heard anger in her bubbly voice before.

“Yeah,” Sho confirmed with a hum, “ _real_ bastard. I mean, what kinda guy collects a buncha orphans and turns them into lab rats?”

The answer was obvious to Goro. “No one will miss an orphan,” he said lowly, a quiet fury underlying his tone, “they have no home to return to. They have no family that will search for them.”

Sho cracked a smile. “Forgot you were an orphan too, kid. You _know_ what it’s like.”

Goro huffed a laugh, leaning back in his chair. “Sadly we share that particular trait.”

“You know your parents, don’tcha?” Sho asked him, and then he turned to his girlfriend. “You had a mom too - but you never got to meet her, right?”

Goro waited for Labrys to nod. “Yeah. I never got ta meet her, but…” she smiled, a hopeful glint in her crimson eyes, “I think she’s happy, wherever she is now.”

Sho mumbled, “Don’t get sappy with me, Scrap.” He gestured towards Goro with a shrug. “We’ve got company. _Bad_ company - but company, nonetheless.”

Goro narrowed his eyes in his irritation and decided to focus on answering Sho’s original question. “I lived with my mother until she commit suicide.” He balled his hands into fists and swallowed back the bile that rose up his throat. “I wish I never met my father.”

 _I wish his blood didn’t run through my veins_ , he didn’t say. _I wish I didn’t see his face in the mirror instead of mine._

Sho laughed. “You and me both, kid.”

“Ikutsuki isn’t really your dad,” Labrys offered with a small frown.

Sho leaned forward, the hind legs of his chair snapping back to the ground with a _crack_. “So what?” he asked, sounding tired above all else. Distantly, Goro wondered how many times Sho must have had this same conversation. “He was all that I had, growing up. I never knew my birth parents. I don’t even know if they were the ones who gave me my name.”

Goro averted his eyes, focusing on the black leather of his gloves. What was there to say to that? He had never been good with advice. All of his condolences and pleasantries were empty and spoken out of necessity to maintain his public image. What would a half-hearted _I’m sorry_ accomplish?

Silence hung heavily between the three of them. Labrys shifted in her seat, unwilling to speak. Sho seemed anxious, or perhaps ready to come undone. Goro clenched his hands into fists, bunching up the fabric of his slacks, and took a breath.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Goro said at last. Sho and Labrys looked to him immediately, surprised by his sudden cut-in. “You have people that care for you now. What does blood matter?”

After a moment, Sho huffed a mirthless laugh. “Considering your shitty dad, I’d say it _doesn’t_.”

Belatedly, Goro realized that he was smiling. Hearing Sho’s backstory had invoked a different emotion than talking to the Phantom Thieves. It was difficult to commiserate with them, considering how rocky their relationship with him had progressed. Sakamoto’s dad was a deadbeat too. Kitagawa’s father was just as corrupt. Futaba’s father-

His smile faltered. He had never told her, had he? He doubted Boss would indulge her in that secret. Maybe… maybe he would tell her one day. That is - if he ever ran into Futaba or the other Thieves again.

He pushed those feelings down. Right now, he was with Sho and Labrys. Tokyo was in the past. His time with the Phantom Thieves was a distant memory. Akira was-

Goro shut his eyes. None of that mattered anymore. This was a new opportunity for him. This was a new _life_ , ready to be determined by him and _only_ him. Shido and Maruki were gone. His strings were cut. For the first time in his life, he could carve his own path - just like he had told Akira, all that time ago.

He opened his eyes and found a smile dancing upon his lips. He looked towards Sho, and for better or for worse, saw a _confidant_. “I’m glad we agree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	4. Foolishly Sentimental

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art in this chapter is done by the amazingly talented [Pen](https://twitter.com/PentheDragon)!!

It was the beginning of July when Goro received his first mission. Training and his introduction to the other Shadow Operatives had taken precedence, and the entirety of June was spent learning his role in the group. With Goro being found and recruited, Sho and Minazuki’s first major mission was taken care of, allowing them to be dispatched for other tasks.

Goro tucked his gun - a real one, not one of the Evokers some of the Shadow Operatives used - into the holster on his hip. Strapping it in with a sense of finality, he looked towards the redhead beside him.

“Hey,” he began, and Sho immediately turned to face him. It was definitely Sho, considering the dumb expression of surprise he wore. “We’re to be dispatched close to Tokyo, correct?”

Goro _knew_ , of course. As soon as he had received word from Mitsuru about the mission, the anxiety clawing at his stomach hadn’t relented. It was unfavorable, considering his unresolved past in the city, but… his work as a Shadow Operative came first. How pathetic would it be if he refused his first mission due to old bad blood? Mitsuru might as well revoke his membership and kick him from the group.

“Were you even listening?” Sho asked in response, ripping Goro from his thoughts. “Yeah, Tokyo. _Your_ hometown.” He scoffed a laugh, readjusting the strap of his yellow crossbody bag. “You gonna wimp out or what?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Goro huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. “We have a mission. It’s not as if I’m strolling around the city streets.”

Sho rolled his shoulders back as he turned. Looking over his shoulder at Goro, he said, “Well, let’s head out then. Unless you want Ice Queen to harp on you again.”

Goro bit back a groan. “No need to remind me.”

Mitsuru had given Goro a talking-to after his meeting with the former Investigation Team. Something about that group _really_ fucking ticked him off. Maybe seeing _Mr. Perfect_ Narukami and his bunch of loyal friends reminded him too much of Akira and his merry band of Thieves. The Team revolved around Narukami just like the Thieves had centered their entire _world_ around Joker. It was _repulsive_.

“You’re lookin’ a little green around the gills,” Sho said with a slight inflection of concern in his voice. It vanished as soon as it appeared when the redhead chuckled, “You plannin’ on coming or are you gonna sleep with the fishes?”

This time, Goro allowed his groan to be let free. “That was _beyond_ awful.”

“It was _not_ ,” Sho rebutted. He then tilted his head, balked at whatever Minazuki told him, and growled, “Oh, _shut it_.”

“At least Minazuki has some sensibility,” Goro hummed, signalling the end of that particular conversation, and he began to walk towards the stairs. “Is the helicopter already outside?”

The swordsman scoffed, either at Goro’s remark or whatever Minazuki told him afterwards. He strode forward, stepping past Goro and beginning his trek up the stairs. “Yeah. Kirijo sent it over.”

“We’re finding that... plume artifact, right?” he asked as Sho pushed open the trapdoor. Goro squinted at the influx of sunlight that poured in; bringing his arm forward, he held it in front of his face to shield his eyes.

“Yeah,” Sho said, stepping out of the base and onto the dirt outside. He looked back at Goro as the latter made it up the stairs and closed the door at his feet. “Top secret Shadow Ops stuff. Scrap and her sister are helping Kirijo, so that leaves us to find it.”

“What about the other Operatives?” Goro asked, fighting back the urge to adjust the dress shirt and vest he was wearing. Was dressing this nicely even necessary? The idea of Shadow Operatives wearing suits, vests, and ties on missions made no sense to him - _especially_ in the summer heat. At the very least, he was allowed to forgo the jacket and tie, but the vest was truly an insult to injury.

Sho, who evidently _didn’t care_ about the dress code with his black tank top and white capris, rolled his eyes. “Investigation brats have lives and Kirijo’s bunch from high school are busy too.”

Goro sighed, and his eyes located the helicopter a few yards away from them. It was a small, sleek black model that gleamed in the sun. The propellers were motionless, signalling that it was yet to be put into ignition. The helm was round, almost like a dome, and it almost reminded Goro of-

He squeezed his eyes shut, banishing the thought immediately.

Sho spoke up tentatively, “Kid, you good or what?”

Goro inhaled sharply, exhaled, and opened his eyes. Sho actually looked _worried_ for him. How sentimental. He almost looked like Akira, gray eyes tinged with concern.

“Fine,” he quietly said, shaking his head to brush off those thoughts. “Let’s just go.”

Sho’s lips twitched into a frown, and Goro was sure the redhead wanted to push the question further but ultimately decided against it. Maybe Minazuki held his tongue, considering Sho’s inability to shut his mouth.

“If you say so, kid,” Sho relented after a moment. “I dunno what you’re so hung over about but…”

Goro waited for Sho to continue, but his statement trailed off into silence. In their conversation’s wake, the helicopter came to life, propellers spinning into motion. Spurring the two forward, they walked in silence towards the vehicle. Goro became hyper-aware of the incessant beating of his racing heart, and he willed his adrenaline to die down. Sho stayed silent as well, displaying a rare moment of self-restraint.

As they entered the helicopter, Goro took a seat facing the cockpit. Sho slumped down in the seat opposite him, close enough to the door for the wind to whip around his red mane of hair. He was in the prime position to jump, if need be.

Sho kept his eyes on the world outside of the helicopter as they took off. Goro decided to use the moment to observe the man sitting before him - the enigma that he still had yet to unravel.

Minazuki Sho, a twenty-two year old ( _twenty-three next month, asshole_ , if he were to use Sho’s words) man with a past as unsavory as Goro’s own. He was a child soldier who grew up in a laboratory and learned of the outside world after a close brush with death. To top it off, the man had a split personality who was _far_ more mature than he was. Despite that, Goro had hardly seen Minazuki, compared to Sho. While Minazuki would constantly talk to Sho, the man hadn’t surfaced nearly as often.

Goro averted his eyes to his lap, wringing his gloved hands together. His fingers were sweating from beneath the leather, but he elected to ignore it for the time being. He was sweating _everywhere_ because of the Shadow Operatives’ choice in dress, so maybe his hands were the _least_ of his worries right now. With clothing as restrictive as this, it was slightly more difficult to breathe; he reached up to loosen his collar, undoing the top button. Maybe he would have to ask Mitsuru about a change in uniform the next time he saw her.

Speaking of, he hadn’t seen Mitsuru in person since his birthday - the day he had been welcomed into the Shadow Operatives. She had digitally facilitated his meeting with the former Investigation Team, and her reprimanding him for his poor behavior had been done over the phone. She was a busy woman, considering her status as the head of both the Kirijo Group and the Shadow Operatives. It seemed that her making time to interrogate him and offer him membership to her secret organization was a rare occurrence.

He chewed on the inside of his mouth. She was never disdainful, of course. While he had only known her for a month, Mitsuru was never one to be rude - especially not to members of the Shadow Operatives. Her failure to make time for him was certainly not an insult. Mitsuru probably lacked the time to even _consider_ making the time to meet with him.

Besides, Sho and Minazuki had been surprisingly informative once he joined the group. While Sho provided Goro info between quips and awful puns, Minazuki would sigh, offer a seat, and spell out a story from beginning to end in his low voice. The stark difference between the two never failed to amuse Goro.

The thought of the redhead brought him back to his original line of thinking. Back in the beginning of June, when Goro had followed Minazuki through Inaba and walked with Sho in the TV World, Goro had resolved to unravel the mystery of a man before him. As time went on, Goro’s quest for knowledge about Minazuki Sho grew paradoxical; it seemed that the more he learned about the man, the more questions arose.

Goro raised his head to look at the swordsman once again. He was still gazing out the window, expression almost wistful. Goro had half a heart to remain silent for the duration of the trip, leaving Sho to his thoughts. He seemed entranced by the sky and the clouds, and Goro could certainly use the silence to gather his thoughts. He hadn’t had much alone time since joining the Shadow Operatives, so the peace and quiet was a nice change of pace.

This month had been... _different_ , to say the least. While it was nothing like his escapades in the Metaverse, his time as a Shadow Operative was a huge contrast to the year he spent off the radar. Compared to his odd jobs and hiding in the prefectures around Japan, being with the Shadow Operatives daily meant adjusting to a new action-packed lifestyle with hardly any downtime.

Most of his days were spent with Sho. Despite Sho’s closeness to Labrys, the android was a member of Mitsuru’s inner circle of primary Operatives that resided on Tatsumi Port Island. That left Goro with the redhead - and Mitsuru decided to really hammer the nail into the coffin by assigning them as official partners in the organization.

So. For better or for worse, Goro spent most of his days with Sho. Minazuki was a fun conversation partner and was willing to discuss philosophy with Goro, but he hardly showed his face nowadays. As a result, Goro dealt with Sho’s boisterousness more often than not. It was beginning to wear on Goro’s patience, to be honest. He could only deal with so many puns before he inevitably used Call of Chaos on himself to forcefully ignore his inhibitions and take out his anger on Sho. _That_ would certainly get him kicked out of the Shadow Operatives for sure.

“Hey, kid.”

Goro’s head snapped up at the sudden sound of Sho’s voice. The swordsman looked older than he really was, eyes lowered and lips twisted into a frown. If Sho hadn’t spoken, Goro might have mistaken him for Minazuki, considering the solemnity of his expression.

“What is it?” he asked, softening the usual edges of his voice. He might as well hear Sho out.

Sho shifted in his seat, leaning his shoulder against the wall of the helicopter. His arms were crossed across his chest, a sign that he was very reluctant to speak his mind. Poised like this, Sho seemed uncharacteristically uncertain of himself and his words.

After a long pause, he mumbled, “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

Goro blinked and leaned back in his seat. He hadn’t realized he had leaned forward at the sound of Sho’s voice and the promise of a conversation. Acting as casual as he could manage, he straightened his shoulders and said, “You can say whatever you want.”

He couldn’t offer being non-judgemental. Goro knew himself.

Sho’s eyes trailed towards the sky once again. He was still frowning. After a moment of silence, he hummed to himself. Belatedly, Goro realized he must have been responding to something Minazuki said.

Just as Goro was settling back into the silence, Sho quietly said, “You’re The Hanged Man. Isn’t that kinda funny?”

Goro’s eyes widened slightly. _The Hanged Man?_ he thought to himself. _The arcana, presumably._

Goro’s experience on that matter was extremely limited. Akira had told him he was Justice during one of his late nights at Leblanc during their heist in the casino. Apparently, Akira had the ability to see his confidants as arcana - an odd concept, but Goro attributed it to Akira’s incomprehensible _uniqueness_. Because why _wouldn’t_ he be able to do something as absurd as that? Akira could do _anything_.

He reined his thoughts back in, focusing on Sho’s original statement. Finding his voice, he slowly repeated, “I’m… The Hanged Man?”

“Can’t you understand words?” he asked, irritation crawling back into his nasal voice. “You’re The Hanged Man.”

Goro watched as Sho continued to stare out the door, refusing to meet his gaze. Admitting this must have been a difficult decision, one that Sho was still fighting with himself about. With Sho’s evident frustration about the realization, Goro wondered if the man even _knew_ why Goro was supposedly The Hanged Man.

Deciding to bite the bullet, Goro cautiously said in a low voice, “The Hanged Man. Like the arcana?”

Sho scoffed. “What else, dufus?”

Goro rolled his eyes. Of course Sho would be standoffish about something as brutally honest as this in a one-on-one talk. Treacherously, Goro sighed, “You wouldn’t be the first one to label me with an arcana, funnily enough.”

Sho’s head shot up, and his blue-gray eyes stared at Goro in obvious shock. “What?”

“Someone else I knew,” he began, grimacing at the mention of Akira, “he saw me as Justice.”

To Goro’s surprise, Sho scowled. The redhead sat up, pressing his back against the seat, and narrowed his eyes in disgust. “ _I_ don’t see you as arcana,” he grumbled. “It’s just like… I _look_ at you, and in the back of my head, I just _know_.” He motioned at Goro with his hand, a vague gesture that looked more like Sho was just rotating his wrist. “It’s pissing me off.”

Goro blinked, absorbing the information Sho revealed to him. He saw Goro as being The Hanged Man arcana… and didn’t know why? Truthfully, Goro was quite ignorant when it came to stuff like this. Akira had never explained the deeper intricacies of his confidants - all he had told Goro was that he was _Justice_. Goro had worn a fake smile and laughed humbly about it back in November, knowing that Akira’s _Justice_ was about to shoot him in the head.

He figured that Akira hadn’t picked the arcana he saw people as. He hadn’t looked at Goro and decided, _he’ll be my Justice_. No - the process was most likely more complicated than that. In that vein, Sho was probably frustrated about the choice of arcana for Goro.

After a moment, Goro chuckled. “It seems the gods have mislabeled me _twice_.”

Sho regarded him with an unreadable expression before ripping his gaze away, staring out the door once again. He sure liked the sight of the sky, if his constant attraction to looking out the door meant anything.

Goro took in a deep breath and steeled himself for the conversation he was about to begin. “Do you enjoy flying?”

The swordsman seemed surprised at the change of subject but failed to comment on it. Keeping his gaze on the blues of the sky, he said, “Flying? Not exactly.” His voice trailed off into a mumble. “But… the sky’s… _nice_ , I guess.”

In that instant, Goro remembered something crucial. Sho had grown up in a laboratory. According to Minazuki, the first time Sho had left the lab had been after waking up from a coma. He had been in a hospital in Inaba, far away from Ergo Research, and he had to learn how to navigate a world he never even _knew_ about.

It made Goro wonder - had Sho ever seen the sky before waking up in that hospital?

Goro pushed the thought aside. He figured Sho would just scowl and ignore him for the rest of the trip if he were to ask something as personal as that. He wasn’t _Akira_ \- brainless sentimentality wasn’t his thing.

Instead, he focused on the overarching matter at hand. “How much longer until we arrive?”

Sho tilted his head slightly, and after a moment, he hummed, “Few minutes, according to _him_.”

“We’re landing in the outskirts of Tokyo, right?” he asked, gripping his knees with his hands. “I’m sure landing on top of a random building would be suspicious.”

“Kirijo doesn’t care about _secrecy_ ,” Sho chuckled, and Goro could remember Minazuki having a similar sentiment about Mitsuru’s _not-so-secret organization_. “But yeah. We’re landing just outside of the city.”

Goro returned his gaze to his lap. He hadn’t been in Tokyo since February of 2017. After his time hitchhiking around Japan and joining the Shadow Operatives, it seemed like a lifetime ago. In the days after escaping Maruki’s reality, Goro had resolved himself to escaping and not looking back. He had spent about a week at the rehab he and his mother stayed at to repay the debt they owed there, and he had left Tokyo immediately afterwards.

For returning home, it was infinitely more _bitter_ than _sweet_ for Goro. Tokyo had never been a home to him in the way a normal person would think of it. To Goro, it was the city he was born in and chained to. Even after running away, he had still ended up back here. Despite everything, he was still bound to the city that housed his own personal tragedy.

Goro smiled bitterly to himself. He was still a prisoner of fate, despite ripping off his chains _twice_.

He watched the approaching skyscrapers, the growing feeling of dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. Catching the glint of childish wonder in Sho’s eyes, Goro’s smile turned more sincere. He had felt a similar sentiment when he had walked into his apartment for the first time. Freshly bought by Shido, the space had been spotless and clean in a way Goro had never known homes to be. The orphanage was dirty and the people there were grimier; unfortunately, his foster homes hadn’t been much better. He had felt like a kid in a candy store, flopping onto the futon and laughing to himself, knowing that he had killed to earn his first ever home.

Despite that, the apartment never felt like _his_. Goro had always held the irrational fear that somebody would arrive one day and revoke his ownership of the apartment. He feared somebody taking away each piece of furniture one by one, and just when he was already feeling hopeless, they would rip up his contract right before his eyes.

For the two and a half years he lived there, he never renovated once. Getting attached was a mistake he could never afford - not with the dangerous life he was living. And so, his apartment looked like it came out of a real estate catalogue - untouched, clean, _perfect_.

The whirring of the propellers ripped Goro from his thoughts, causing him to bring his gaze towards the door. The city of metal shifted, blurring as they descended. From the looks of it, they were finally landing.

Tokyo. Maybe Goro should have taken a picture to capture the moment forever. How _sentimental_ of him.

“You ready to go?” Sho asked, finally shattering the silence that had settled between them. He sounded more energized, wistful tone from earlier a distant memory.

Goro smothered his thoughts of introspection, focusing on the present moment. His first mission as a Shadow Operative. How exciting.

A smirk crawled onto his face, anticipation growing in his stomach. “Let’s find that damn feather.”

* * *

Goro exited the helicopter, stepping into the field of grass on the other side of the door. The July sun beamed radiantly in the sky, and Goro already felt like he was baking alive. If they were to run into an enemy, his attire was going to be a very obvious obstacle. Even his Prince outfit had been easier to fight in. Maybe that was just due to cognition. Regardless, he was asking for a change of clothes for his next mission.

Focusing on his _current_ mission, he walked forward and stopped next to Sho. The redhead looked perfectly fine, marred skin free of sweat. Pushing aside his clothing complaints, he asked, “Did we receive an exact location for this site?”

Sho cracked a grin. “Nope. Just that it’s somewhere around here.”

Why was Sho so jovial when they were searching for a needle in a haystack? The man already seemed to hold animosity for Mitsuru - wouldn’t this aggravate him further?

Goro decided to voice his thoughts. “Doesn’t that make it more difficult for us?” he asked, lips twisting into a small frown. “I’m sure the Shadow Operatives have the technology to locate Shadow activity and pinpoint an exact location.”

To his dismay, Sho shrugged and began walking in a random direction away from the helicopter. “Kirijo didn’t need to get reverse-detected,” he explained. “I know the Shadow Ops aren’t all that secret, but Ice Queen cares about that stuff for some reason.”

Goro quickened his pace to catch up with his partner, already feeling the beginnings of sweat coalescing on his skin. “So she sent us to find a needle in a haystack,” he said bitterly.

“Not exactly,” Sho said, and though Goro couldn’t see his face, he knew the man was grinning. “Let’s say I’ve got a trick up my sleeve that’ll make this search a piece of cake.”

At that claim, Goro felt the beginnings of doubt claw at his stomach. What could Sho possibly have that could help locate this Plume of Dusk?

Sho stopped, tilting his head down to stare at the ground in front of him. When Goro stepped into place next to him, he realized Sho’s eyes were closed.

“Sho?” he asked tentatively, and he cringed at the immediate irritation that pinched Sho’s face.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to focus?” he hissed. “Shut up for a second, will ya?”

Goro pressed his lips into a tight frown and held his tongue. In the silence, he watched as Sho stood still and concentrated on... whatever he was focusing on. After a long moment, the redhead picked his head up and continued walking in his original direction. Goro followed and walked beside him.

“It’s up ahead,” Sho said, keeping his gaze forward.

Goro blinked and finally voiced his thoughts. “What were you doing?”

Sho scoffed. “ _Focusing_. You deaf or something?”

Goro fought to keep his eye from twitching, and evidently, didn’t do too well at it. “Focusing on _what_?” he asked tersely, the edges of his voice sharp.

Sho groaned with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s just say I have a knack for locating those damn feathers,” he explained dispassionately. “For all the strife I went through, at least I got a sort of helpful trick out of it.”

Perhaps out of habit, Goro found his hand moving to his chin. “You have the ability to locate these Plumes without an external device?” he asked.

To his surprise, Sho huffed a short, mirthless laugh. “Sorta. Something like that.”

Goro hummed at the noncommittal answer, garnet eyes returning to the stretch of land before them. As they had landed on the outskirts of Tokyo, the city of metal buzzed with life behind them. In the opposite direction they were headed, all Goro could see was grass and trees in the distance. It seemed more like the countryside. It would be foolish to ask if this were really Tokyo; Goro had seen the skyscrapers and buildings he recognized from his childhood. He would be deluding himself if he thought they were still in Inaba.

It was almost funny, actually. Goro had stopped thinking of Tokyo as his home despite spending most of his life confined to its boundaries. Up until last year, he had only known the steel and lights of the big city. While the prefectures he traveled through over the past year were no more of a home to him, his short stay in Inaba had begun to shape up into something meaningful. The countryside of Inaba, the Shadow Operatives’ underground headquarters… it was beginning to feel _familiar_.

Was this how Akira had felt, settling into Leblanc’s attic, knowing that his new friends and family awaited him when he awoke? Was this what it was like to feel at home somewhere - to feel _wanted_?

“Hey, kid,” Sho called, snapping Goro out of his sentimental thoughts. “The Plume’s somewhere around here. You comin’ or are you just gonna stand there?”

Goro brushed his thoughts aside for later introspection. He needed to focus on the mission at hand, not get lost in his head. Taking a breath, he strode forward and entered the forest area to stand beside Sho. The man had his eyes closed, probably concentrating on the Plume’s location, and Goro stayed silent out of courtesy. The faster they found this artifact, the sooner they could return to the base and he could change out of this ridiculous outfit.

After a few lengthy seconds, Sho blinked his eyes open. He looked confused, lips slightly parted and eyebrows drawn. “It’s… on the move.”

Goro silently worked his mouth before finding his voice. “Maybe it’s being transported somewhere?” he asked, a slight tinge of hopefulness in his tone.

“ _No_.” Sho worried his lip and looked _very close_ to snapping. His anger had always been quick to ignite - all it needed was the smallest gust of wind to fan the flames. “More likely it’s _in_ somebody.”

Goro furrowed his brow. “It’s… in someone?” he repeated in his confusion. He had hardly any information on these Plumes of Dusk in the first place; all Mitsuru had told him was that she needed him and Sho to retrieve it.

Sho narrowed his eyes, anger barely being restrained. “Do I always have to repeat myself?” he growled, baring his teeth. “ _Yeah_. Someone probably got that damn feather shoved into their body. That’s why it’s _moving away from us_ as we speak.”

Considering the anger in Sho’s voice, it wasn’t difficult for Goro to deduce that this was an unfavorable situation. He took in a breath. “Alright. Where is it now?”

Sho shut his eyes with a thoughtful frown. After a moment, he opened his eyes, grabbed his katanas, and began to jog towards their left. “Follow me!”

Blinking past his stupor, Goro retrieved his pistol from the holster at his hip and ran to catch up with Sho. The swordsman was faster than him, so Goro quickened his pace. Trees blurred past them, and Goro panted with the exertion. Was he truly _this_ out of shape?

“Underground?” Sho asked loudly, undoubtedly in response to Minazuki. He grinded to a halt, and Goro nearly tripped over his own two feet to stop as well. “... Yeah, good call.”

Goro took the moment to catch his breath, feeling the restrictiveness of his clothes to their fullest potential. Recomposing himself, he asked, “What did he say?”

In a small flourishing motion, Sho sheathed one of his katanas and grabbed Goro’s arm with his now-free hand. Goro’s eyes widened at the sudden contact and he opened his mouth to rebut when Sho cut him off. “He said hold on.” His grip on Goro’s arm tightened just as he yelled, “ _Tsukiyomi_!”

Suddenly, Sho’s eyes and the scar etched across his face flared an unnatural blue, and his Persona manifested behind him. The air shifted, and without warning, Goro’s vision blurred before him. Gone were the greens of the forest - everything was a hazy mix of blacks and reds for a dizzying moment.

As if he had blinked and woken up in a new place, the scenery had changed completely. Taking a sweeping glance of his surroundings and noting the familiar machinery, Goro recognized this as a laboratory. Looking towards Sho, the man had a hand pressed to his forehead and one of his eyes shut in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, increasingly wary of their new location. While there was nobody here, the familiar scenery was giving rise to Goro’s latent anxiety.

Sho groaned and moved to grab his sheathed katana. “I underestimated how far that distance was. Portaling that far _really_ put a strain on me.”

With the explanation, the realization of what had just occurred dawned on Goro. “Your teleportation trick,” he said, recalling his fight with Sho back in the TV World last month. “That certainly must be taxing, especially in the real world.”

“It is,” he answered shortly and began to stride towards the door on the opposite side of the room. “It’s even more of a pain to ex _pain_ it right now. We still have a mission to do.”

Goro swallowed down a groan and tightened his grip on his pistol. He could interrogate Sho later about what just occurred; as the man had reminded him, they still had their mission to complete. According to Sho, the Plume of Dusk was somewhere in this building - all they had to do was find it and bring it back to Mitsuru.

As they stepped out into the hallway, Goro vigilantly looked from side to side. To his left was a wall, and a long hallway stretched on to his right. The room they had teleported into was at the end of this hallway, meaning the rest of the facility was yet to be seen. Where were the people? More importantly, where was the _Plume_?

Goro quieted his steps, a trick he had learned during his time in the foster system and honed in the Metaverse. Sho had done the same, perhaps trained into stealth in the same way Goro had been. The two stalked through the hallway, peeking into rooms as they slipped by. Surprisingly, every room was devoid of life - all that remained was machinery, wires, needles, vials, and the odd few bottles of medicine. It looked almost identical to the laboratory where he had been experimented on.

By the time they peeked into the sixth room, Goro realized his hands were shaking. They had been shaking since the first room, of course, but he had elected to ignore it. Hereward hummed softly in the back of his mind and Goro took in a deep breath. Sho glanced back at him, the smallest tinge of concern drawn across his features.

“You okay, kid?” he asked quietly, voice softer than usual.

Goro forced himself to breathe, tightening his grip on the pistol. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Let’s keep going.”

Sho parted his lips, but whatever he was about to say died in his throat. He settled on a sigh before turning around and continuing down the hallway. Goro followed in his steps, keeping his head up and focusing on the interminable stretch of the building in front of them. The hallway seemed to go on forever, but they had to persist.

He continued forward with silent steps and kept his breathing even. He couldn’t allow his past experiences to drag him down - not when this was his first major mission as a Shadow Operative. He also didn’t need to burden Sho; his pathetic display of fear was already embarrassing enough. He just needed to breathe, focus, and complete this mission.

Suddenly, Sho brandished a katana in front of Goro, preventing him from walking any further. Goro halted to a stop, eyes flicking to his partner reflexively. “What is it?” he asked.

Sho regarded him with a quick glance before turning his gaze back to the stretch of hallway in front of them. “The Plume is close,” he said. “Be ready to fight at any moment now, yeah?”

Goro gave a short nod and Sho brought the blade closer to himself, allowing Goro to continue walking forward. With Sho’s warning, Goro focused inward, feeling Hereward’s power thrumming in his veins. While he was unable to maintain Hereward for a full fight in the real world, he could still manifest his Persona in quick bursts. Even without Hereward’s bow, he still had his pistol and Sho to rely on.

Hm. Sho was the second person he had ever actually relied on. Akira had been the first - and the _only_ person for a very long time. Giving his trust was as rare as delving into his truth, it seemed.

Regardless, the concept was even more laughable when he compared Akira and Sho’s personalities; the two couldn’t be any more different. Akira and Minazuki held quite a few similarities, but Sho? If anything, Sho was more like…

Goro banished the thought, refusing to explore it any further. That wasn’t an idea he was willing to confront - _especially_ during a mission.

“It’s escaping!”

Goro jolted out of his thoughts at the scream. It was a male voice from further down the hall. His brain began to register the words as the adrenaline began to kick in. _It’s_ -

“Let’s go!” Sho called, darting down the hallway without a moment of hesitation. Goro forced his legs into motion and did the same, holding his gun close to his chest as he ran. They had ran past countless more doors, Goro’s heart hammering in his chest, and-

Sho grinded to a halt with a loud cry of pain. He dropped one of his katanas and pressed a hand to his forehead, eyes screwed shut in agony. Goro stopped at his side, shoes sliding against the slick flooring. “Sho?” he asked between breaths. “What-”

“The Plume,” Sho hissed through gritted teeth. “It’s - it’s - _argh_.” He shook his head and clawed his fingers through his bangs.

Goro’s eyes flicked between Sho and the dark hallway before them, blood pounding in his ears. The Plume was _what?_ He couldn’t help Sho if the man couldn’t say what was wrong.

Sho ducked his head, and Goro watched his grip tighten on his katana, knuckles flaring white. “The Plume is resonating with - with _mine_ ,” he panted, cracking his eyes open. “I think… A Shadow must have it. It’s - it’s fucking me up.”

Goro forced down his initial instinct to inquire further, deciding to focus on Sho’s wellbeing first. He dropped his arms to his side, lowering his gun. “You can’t fight like this,” he said simply. “You’re only-”

“Shut up!” Sho snarled, whipping his head to the side to glare at Goro. His blue-gray eyes were hot with anger, and for a moment, Goro could see himself in the storm. “I’m not letting a goddamn _feather_ get the best of me.”

As if the last thirty seconds hadn’t happened, Sho recovered miraculously. He leaned down, retrieved his fallen blade, and seethed to himself. “And _you_ shut up, too!” he grumbled, and Goro realized that _maybe_ the seething had been directed at Minazuki.

Goro raised his arms, pistol at the ready. “We need to-”

Suddenly, alarms began to blare loudly and the hallway became awash in red storm lights. Goro winced at the abrupt sound and glanced towards Sho; the redhead seemed to be similarly affected, if the twitch of his lips was anything to go by.

“It went that way!” It was a different voice from the previous shout - a female one.

Goro felt a shift in the air, the atmosphere morphing into something darker. It was a similar feeling to the Metaverse - goosebumps raced across his skin and the hair on the back of his neck stood up on end. The floor felt like it had tilted on its axis, leaving him off balance. Hereward pulsed through his veins, and if Goro were to close his eyes, he could trick himself into believing he was truly in the depths of Mementos.

Footsteps stomped towards them, undoubtedly the people who were screaming before, and Goro tightened his grip on his pistol. He focused on Hereward’s power, ready to be called upon if he needed it. At his side, Sho readied himself into a fighting stance - both swords were held in front of him in a position that _screamed_ offense. He was aiming to _kill_ , poised like that.

From the darkness of the hall, a glob of black slithered across the floor. Goro aimed his gun and watched cautiously as the _thing_ shifted and morphed into a different shape. The glob stretched and configured itself into… a Phantom-esque Shadow. A burnt-orange mask covered its face, and its hood was drawn over its head. However, where a lantern with a lit flame would usually sit in its chest was-

“The Plume,” Sho growled, wincing slightly. The resonance he had mentioned earlier must have still been bothering him, whether or not he wanted to admit to it. “It ate the fuckin’ Plume!”

The Phantom gave a twirl, embellished purple cloak flourishing around it. It almost seemed to be mocking them. Were Shadows cognizant enough to do that? Goro moved his finger to the trigger. He didn’t plan on figuring out.

From behind the Shadow, three adults stopped to a halt. Two men and a woman, all dressed in white lab coats. Embroidered on the chest of each was a familiar insignia: _Ergonomics Research_. Without a doubt, they had been the ones shouting earlier, meaning that this Shadow had stolen the Plume from them before attempting to escape the laboratory.

One of the men opened his mouth, perhaps to ask about the identities of Goro and Sho, but the Shadow between them let out an ear-splitting shriek, causing the three researchers to collapse to the floor. Had that knocked them out…?

Goro was unable to ponder further because the crevice in the Phantom’s chest flared blue - the same blue Sho’s eyes and scar had earlier - and Sho dropped his katanas, clutching his head with a cry. Goro’s gaze flicked to Sho and then immediately back to the Shadow, knowing he needed to act _right now_.

He pulled the trigger, unleashing a bullet from the chamber. It hit the golden steel of the lantern before ricocheting off, the sound reverberating and echoing against the walls, causing Goro’s ears to ring painfully. If he fired again in such an enclosed space-

“Hereward!” he called instead, and his Persona manifested in the space in front of him. “Rebellion Blade!”

Hereward crouched, summoning an ethereal sword to slice through the Shadow. With unearthly speed, the Phantom dodged the attack and skirted towards Goro. It burned bright blue and did another flourishing twirl, and-

Goro felt like he was burning alive, the bless magic of Hamaon searing his skin. He dropped his gun in his shock, and Hereward flickered with his loss of concentration. He squeezed his eyes shut, reached out towards Hereward, and screamed, “ _Call of Chaos_!”

_his eyes ripped open, adrenaline coursing mercilessly through his veins, and goro threw himself towards the shadow. he snarled, clawing at the phantom with his fingernails, and was promptly swatted to the floor. he tumbled, skidding against the slick flooring, and watched helplessly as the shadow turned its masked face towards him. it began to spin, cloak fluttering around it. the blue flame in its chest grew in size. desperately, he reached towards his discarded pistol, arm stretched as far as he could reach._

“█████████!”

_at sho’s - no, minazuki’s - side appeared a bull-headed persona. in goro’s blurring vision, it was a mix of browns and greens, towering over minazuki’s form. the phantom glowed that same blue as before and-_

“█████████!” _minazuki yelled, and his persona spread its arms wide. a pillar of flame erupted from beneath the phantom, and the shadow unleashed another shriek. goro squeezed his eyes shut, and the pounding of his heart thumped loudly in his ears. he needed call of chaos’ effect to wear off soon. everything was blurring and he was useless and minazuki was taking down the shadow by himself and the phantom was writhing in the flames and goro needed to get UP-_

“ _Hereward_!” he screamed, and every sensation slammed into his brain in an instant. “Laevateinn, now!”

Minazuki regarded him with a quick glance before focusing on the Shadow once again. “Moloch, Agidyne!”

Flames and sword collided with the Phantom, and after a few seconds of a lengthy scream, it melted back into black goop. As Moloch vanished, Minazuki stared down at the remains of the Shadow as it evaporated at his feet, leaving only the Plume of Dusk behind. Goro pushed himself onto his knees and allowed Hereward to retreat back into his heart. He panted, attempting to catch his breath, and waited for the last dregs of madness to drain out of him. Turning his gaze past the remains of the Phantom, he saw that the three researchers were still unconscious. He and Minazuki could easily escape without any repercussions. How fortunate.

Minazuki leaned down, frowning at the feather-like artifact as he picked it up. In a quiet voice, he murmured, “I suppose we are kin.”

After steadying himself, Goro retrieved his gun and slid it back into its holster. He got to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. “Moloch,” he said, catching Minazuki’s attention, “that’s not Tsukiyomi.”

The redhead smiled wryly. “Quite the obvious deduction, _detective_.” He turned his gaze back to the Plume of Dusk, expression contemplative. “Tsukiyomi was originally my Persona. He belongs to the boy now.”

Goro furrowed his brow. “Then Moloch-”

“He is one of many,” Minazuki said shortly, meeting Goro’s gaze. “He was born from the boy’s bond with you.” He smirked then, as if arriving at the punchline. “The Hanged Man.”

His conversation with Sho earlier burst to the forefront of his mind. _You’re The Hanged Man_ , he had said in a mirthless tone. _Isn’t that kinda funny?_

“You’re a Wildcard,” Goro concluded.

“A very unorthodox one,” Minazuki closed his eyes with an amused hum, offering Goro a small nod, “but a Wildcard, nonetheless.”

A lengthy silence followed and the only sound in the room was their quiet breathing. It allowed Goro a moment to think, especially after the endless stream of action since they had exited the helicopter. Minazuki was a Wildcard, just like Akira had been. Well. Minazuki had called himself an unorthodox one - just like Mitsuru had labeled Goro back in their first meeting. Yes, Goro had possessed two Personas born from his heart, but there had been nothing _special_ about it. His very _soul_ was divided, split with two very different resolves, and they had only combined into a cohesive whole after his conversation with Akira. It seemed Joker was good for something, after all.

Goro’s gaze landed on the feather-like object in Minazuki’s hand - the Plume of Dusk Mitsuru had sent them to retrieve. It was shaped like a feather and glowed an ethereal blue. If Goro were to really focus, he could feel a low hum of power being emitted from it. Why had its resonance hurt Sho so much earlier? Had its fusion with the Shadow turned that transmittance into a weapon?

His thoughts turned back to Minazuki’s earlier remark. “You called the Plume your kin,” he began, easing out of the silence that had settled between them. The man in question opened his eyes, fixing Goro with an emotionless stare. “What are you, really?”

Minazuki breathed a sigh and took the artifact into his fingers, holding it up in front of Goro. His voice was solemn when he spoke. “The boy’s father implanted a Plume of Dusk into his brain. His father hoped the boy would awaken to a Persona, but…” he lowered his gaze, staring at the ethereal feather with an unreadable expression on his face. “I awakened instead.”

Goro’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re the Plume of Dusk itself.”

The swordsman withdrew his hand and smiled bitterly. “ _Yes_. I am but a shard of one who brings about death. I am no human - merely an alien artifact, embedded in this boy’s brain akin to some sort of _parasite_.”

Goro blinked, surprised at the turn of events. Minazuki seemed to think of himself as a burden - calling himself a _parasite_ , even. “Are you delusional?” he asked harshly. “Sho doesn’t think of you like that. I’ve only known the two of you for a month but of that, I’m certain.”

“A kind thought,” Minazuki said after a moment, “but I know my true nature.”

Goro held his tongue, knowing that arguing was futile. Minazuki was just as stubborn as he was, after all. Instead, he watched as Minazuki tugged at the strap of his bag, moving the pack to his chest. From it, he retrieved a small container and meticulously slipped the Plume into its protection. Once it was sealed, he placed it back into his bag and shifted it to sit against his shoulder blades.

“We’d better leave before these researchers wake up,” Goro said instead. “Are you planning on using your teleportation trick again or do we need to search for an exit?”

“Tsukiyomi is no longer mine,” Minazuki repeated as he picked up his katanas, sheathing them with far less dramatics than Sho usually did. “Hold on for just a moment.”

Before Goro could inquire further, Minazuki’s body shuddered and fell limp, as if he were a puppet and his strings had been cut. The analogy deeply unsettled Goro, so he pushed it out of his mind. He distracted himself by watching the redhead straighten up.

The swordsman blinked at Goro, glanced back to where the Shadow had been, and scowled. “Guess I missed a lot,” Sho said with a scoff. “ _He_ take over?”

Goro nodded. “You were incapacitated.” His thoughts trailed back to Sho, dropping his blades and clutching his head. “What did the Shadow do to you?”

“Resonated with my Plume,” he said, his lips twisting into a thin smile. “It was more like one hell of a dissonance. Its _Shadow essence_ or whatever it was made of must have fused with the damn feather. A really shitty broadcast, if you ask me.”

And there was the Sho he had come to know, cracking awful jokes in every situation. Goro huffed a laugh. “Can you portal us out of here before those researchers wake up? I doubt they’d let us escape after confiscating their Plume of Dusk.”

Aside from evading a confrontation, Goro wanted to be _far_ away from this laboratory setting. He wondered if Sho felt the same sort of déjà vu, seeing these blank white walls and machinery. Sho had spent his entire _childhood_ growing up in a lab; Goro’s handful of months of experimentation were pitiful in comparison.

“Ever heard of the word _please_?” Sho asked in disgust, but he grabbed Goro’s arm regardless. “Yeah, sure, _whatever_. I’m sick a’ this place, too.”

Goro braced himself for the dizziness and vertigo that was bound to come. While it hadn’t been as disorienting as shifting into the Metaverse or falling into the TV had been, it certainly wasn’t an experience Goro was interested in repeating.

“Persona!” Sho yelled, eyes and scar blazing blue, and Goro’s irritation at Sho yelling for no reason was promptly forgotten as the world blurred around them. Goro squeezed his eyes shut, feeling weightless as Tsukiyomi teleported them back into the forest. He could still feel Sho’s hand gripped tightly around his arm, and Goro felt childish for closing his eyes.

When he opened them, the greens of the forest were a welcoming sight. Sho released his arm, leaving Goro to become reacquainted with gravity.

“Ya think the helicopter’s still here?” Sho asked, scratching absentmindedly at the back of his head. “Shit, how long were we in there?”

Once Goro was sure he wouldn’t fall over, he retrieved his phone from under his vest and checked the time. “Half an hour, I believe,” he said before pocketing it again.

“ _Ugh_ ,” Sho groaned, leaning his head back. “I’m already bored again. I didn’t even get in on the action.”

“I’m sure there’ll be other missions for us,” Goro answered. After a moment, he put a finger under his collar and gave a small tug. “Can we return to the base now? I’d love a change of clothes.”

Sho gave him a once over. “ _Damn_ , you really sweat through that, didn’t ya?” He threw his head back with an obnoxious cackle. “Broke a sweat just like you _broke_ your back carrying that fight, huh?” He began walking towards the direction of where the helicopter had been, resting the palms of his hands against the ends of his swords. “Just kidding.”

Goro sighed but fell into step with him regardless. This was his life now. Even though putting up with Sho’s awful humor and impulsive nature could be trying, Goro still felt an odd sense of kinship. Could this partnership classify as friendship?

His mouth twisted into a frown. Friendship. A pretty word for something Goro could never truly obtain. The Thieves hadn’t been his friends. Akira had been his rival. Had he ever truly had a friend?

“You look like you just swallowed a whole lemon,” Sho cracked a smile. “That joke not your _taste_?”

None of Sho’s puns were, but...

He could indulge the swordsman, just this once. Goro rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Lemons taste awful. I’m sure everyone could agree on that.”

“You’re a real _sucker_ , you know that?” Sho turned his gaze back to the field opening before them. As they exited the shade of the forest, the summer sun poured down onto them, and Goro squinted against the radiance. “... Helicopter is still there. Guess we don’t have time for you to give a _lemon_ stration.”

Goro heaved a heavy sigh and decided not to answer. He watched Sho out of the corner of his eye, red hair fiery in the light. Basked in the sun like this, Sho almost seemed to _glow_.

Goro turned his gaze to his feet. What a silly thought.

Before he knew it, they were boarding the helicopter once again. Goro nearly fell into his seat in his exhaustion. Once again, Sho took a seat across from him and leaned heavily against the wall beside the opening. It seemed he was just as exhausted as Goro was.

Goro sunk into his seat, crossing his arms across his chest. He was tired down to his very bones, and everything in him just wanted to shut down and _sleep_. His eyelids felt like lead. Maybe he could rest his eyes on the way back...

He shut his eyes, experiences from the day flashing through his head like a slideshow. Life as a real Shadow Operative, completing missions with Sho and Minazuki by his side. He got the thrill of fighting, feeling adrenaline course through his veins just like it had back in the Metaverse, and the sweet taste of victory in its wake. He was _useful_. He was _needed_.

In his fading consciousness, he could feel a faint smile tugging at his lips. How sentimental of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  ~~Not me memeing my own fic~~
> 
> The Shadow they fight is [Phantom Hero](https://megamitensei.fandom.com/wiki/Phantom_Hero#Persona_4_Golden). In P4G, it's weak to Fire, nullifies Dark, and takes normal damage from Almighty. As such, Hereward's Curse and Almighty attacks wouldn't be able to hurt it; the only moves Goro could really use would be a Colossal attack like Laevateinn or Riot Gun. Similarly, Tsukiyomi would be equally as useless in that situation, so Moloch's Agidyne is Minazuki's best option.


	5. The Intricacies of Humanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Art in this chapter is by [me](https://twitter.com/Zeiskyte/status/1361879003783553025?s=20), actually. I wanted to draw one of my favorite scenes and did that instead of studying. Whoops.

July passed by without a hitch. Missions were few and far between, considering the existence of the other Shadow Operatives. Mitsuru’s team headed the operations, and Narukami’s younger squad were quick to collect themselves before being deployed. Despite that group being in their early to mid twenties, they acted much too similarly to the Phantom Thieves for Goro’s liking.

Goro learned the ropes fairly quickly, despite being a new recruit. Sho knocked him quite frequently, but the man slipped in some compliments every now and then. The redhead seemed to love Hereward and thought that - in his own words - _he looked fuckin’ awesome_. On the other hand, Minazuki preferred Goro’s combat prowess and deft handling of a gun. He continually mentioned Goro’s similarities to that detective from the foggy day murder cases seven years ago, which put a constant damper on even the highest of his praises.

It seemed as though Goro could not go a single day without being compared to someone else. During the Phantom Thieves’ reign of overtaking Tokyo, Goro found he would constantly juxtapose himself with Akira. After months of subjecting himself to these self-deprecating thoughts, it came to boil over the surface on the night he threw his glove at Akira and challenged him to a duel. Unique, perfect Akira had accepted.

Goro took his right hand into his left, running his fingers over the cold leather. These gloves were mismatched, given that Akira had never returned his glove from that chilly November night. The shade was slightly lighter, and perhaps only Goro could tell the difference. Maybe Akira could as well, if he ever decided to look.

He frowned bitterly. It had been a year and a half since they had escaped Maruki’s reality. A year and a half since he had abandoned Tokyo, journeyed through Japan, and began his new life. Had the Thieves ever searched for him? Did they even _care_?

~~Did Akira clutch his glove to his chest and _cry_?~~

“Lost in thought once again, hm?”

Goro’s eyes lifted from his hands to the redhead before him. The amused smirk and slightly quirked eyebrow was enough of a tell - Minazuki clicked his tongue, patiently waiting for Goro’s answer.

He lowered his gaze, garnet eyes rolling over his mismatched pair of gloves. “A bad habit of mine,” he murmured after a moment.

“I suppose I should have expected as much,” Minazuki hummed, leaning back leisurely in his seat. His gaze slowly rolled over the walls behind Goro, blue-gray eyes meticulous in their search. For what - Goro didn’t know. Minazuki had been quite cryptic in his explanation on why they were venturing out to some random abandoned house in the woods. He seemed to be looking over the vast collection of books slotted in the bookcase behind Goro.

Goro blinked, debating on whether he should voice his thoughts. Minazuki had left Goro to his own devices up until now, so why had the swordsman decided to come back now? Goro figured that all he had to do was sit pretty and wait for his senior to finish whatever he was doing in this old cabin.

Speaking of, whose house even _was_ this? Minazuki had failed to give Goro a straight answer when he asked, opting for a small hum of acknowledgement instead of an explanation. Perhaps it should have bothered Goro when the redhead slipped in through a cracked-open window and let Goro in once he had infiltrated the home. Were they seriously trespassing and breaking into some random person’s house?

Minazuki sighed, shattering the silence that had fallen between them. “Nothing has changed since the last time we were here,” he said, as if offering an answer for why the _hell_ they broke in through the window. “Not a single possession out of place. It’s amusing, if anything.”

Goro raised his gaze and fought to keep his voice even. “You’ve been here before,” he said flatly, failing to pose it as an inquiry.

The swordsman crossed his arms across his chest. “We haven’t stepped foot in here in,” he paused, eyes wandering for a fleeting moment, “six years, I believe.”

“Why return now?” Goro asked, raising an eyebrow. Curiosity finally got the best of him. “Is this your house?”

Minazuki huffed a joyless laugh. “I suppose it is,” he answered cryptically, because of _course_ he would. The man spoke in riddles, as if to purposely irritate Goro.

“You _suppose_?” he asked quizzically, voice tentative. “How would you not know if-”

Minazuki shut his eyes, his voice slightly raised as if to overpower Goro. “We _inherited_ this house from the boy’s father,” he interrupted. Immediately after his small outburst, he took a composing breath as he reined in his temper. “It certainly was not in Ikutsuki’s will, but…”

His voice trailed off, unwilling to finish. Goro’s lips pulled into a small frown. “Did your father care for you at all?” he asked.

The redhead chuckled, but there was not a single shred of mirth to be found. “For the boy? No. For results?” he smiled bitterly. “What else would he care for?”

Results.

Goro turned his gaze downwards. Shido had been the same. It didn’t matter how many injuries Goro sustained in the Metaverse, or how many nights he couldn’t sleep with the weight of his actions pulling him down, down, down. It didn’t matter how much blood was on his hands. Goro didn’t matter. _Results_ did.

Goro exhaled a long breath, banishing those thoughts. “Perhaps that was a foolish question,” he allowed.

“It was,” Minazuki affirmed, as if to add insult to injury. He straightened his back to regain his height advantage over Goro - even _more_ salt in his already-irritated wound. “However, it serves as a grim reminder of our similar circumstances.”

“Our fathers were both total shitbags and molded us into weapons,” Goro said flatly, meeting Minazuki’s eyes. “Results might as well be my middle name.”

“That would certainly make for an odd birth certificate,” Minazuki said, amusement creeping into his low voice. “Akechi _Results_ Goro. Truly rolls off the tongue, does it not?”

Goro snorted. “Hilarious,” he deadpanned. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “My birth certificate would be even _more_ inaccurate if you were to add that on.”

Minazuki quirked an eyebrow at that. “Akechi Goro is not your real name?” he asked, tone inflected with curiosity.

Goro allowed his hands to rest in his lap, continuing to run his fingers over the material of his gloves. “I couldn’t have Shido realizing who I was,” he explained. Unable to help himself, he chuckled. “Not like it did jack _shit_. He knew as soon as I entered his office for the first time.”

“I assume the familial resemblance is uncanny,” Minazuki offered, his voice returning to its low, unaffected cadence. “Do you take after your mother?”

Goro’s smile turned bitter as he continued to wring his hands. “I wish.” He averted his eyes to his shoes and loosened his tongue. “My mother’s hair was also honey brown, and her nose was soft. Everything else?” he huffed a laugh. “It might as well be Shido in the mirror, staring back at me.”

Silence settled in the space between them. Goro failed to continue, opting instead to mull over his thoughts. Deep down, he had always known how similar he looked to Shido. It was the reason why he accentuated the traits he inherited from his mother; if Shido shaved his head for sport, Goro would grow his hair out. His long locks helped to alter his face shape, further dissuading the public eye from perceiving his similarities to Shido. Goro was fortunate Shido wore his idiotic yellow-tinted sunglasses; it meant that Goro didn’t need to acquire color contacts to hide his garnet eyes.

And perhaps Goro was foolish for believing his plan would work in the first place, _regardless_ of his similar appearance to his bastard father. He had stumbled into Shido’s office on the cusp of fifteen, flaunting about his supernatural powers. He had stolen a tattered collared shirt from his previous foster home, and his pants were a size or three too big. The sneakers he wore were a size too small, crushing his feet and making his steps uneven and awkward. Goro thought he looked professional. Shido saw an idiotic child _begging_ to be manipulated.

Surely Shido knew who he was as soon as he entered his office. Someone as vain as Shido certainly looked into a mirror far longer than necessary and sharpened his appearance to be as attractive as possible. Goro’s hair color and nose shape were hardly enough to subvert suspicion. There was no way he could miss the similarities between himself and the orphan boy that fell over himself on the way in.

Minazuki sighed, catching Goro’s attention. “The boy never knew his parents, so I cannot offer you a family tree explanation, I’m afraid.”

Goro lifted his chin, gaze landing on the swordsman across from him. Minazuki had his eyes shut, perhaps half-entrenched in a memory. Goro interlocked his fingers, giving his hands a small squeeze. “What about you?” he asked suddenly, and Minazuki’s eyes blinked open in surprise. “That’s not truly your body. Where do _you_ come from?”

Minazuki averted his eyes, expression hardening. It was always intriguing to Goro just how different Minazuki could look from Sho, despite them sharing a body. Minazuki tended to wear more solemn expressions, his emotions increasingly more subdued compared to his other half. It was difficult to believe that the man in front of him _wasn’t_ truly a man - just a consciousness born from an alien artifact implanted in Sho’s brain.

“I… am born from death,” Minazuki said slowly, lips twisted into a bitter frown. He lowered his head so his gaze rested on his lap, unwilling to meet Goro’s eyes. “Plumes of Dusk were shed from Nyx’s body upon fusing with the moon, and they - _we_ \- are essentially physical Shadows.”

Goro chewed on the inside of his lip as he thought Minazuki’s explanation over. Nyx was a Greek goddess of the night - but she existed as a supernatural being as well? According to Minazuki’s account, Nyx fused with the moon, leading to the creation of Plumes. It was an absurd anecdote, but… Minazuki had no reason to lie.

“So,” he began, recollecting his conversation with Minazuki last month, “a Plume of Dusk - _you_ , perhaps I should say - was implanted into Sho’s brain.”

“He was _twelve_ ,” Minazuki hissed, and Goro’s confidence faltered. The redhead’s gaze was still on his lap, and Goro realized belatedly that the man’s anger was directed at someone else. “His _father_ ,” he spat the word, lip curled in disgust. “He chose to implant a _shard of death_ into the mind of a _child_.”

For a fleeting moment, Goro could see himself in Minazuki’s shape; his slouched shoulders and the hanging of his head - his clenched fists, and the entirety of his being shaking with anger. If Goro could see Minazuki’s eyes, he was sure they would be burning with a wrath waiting to be unleashed.

Minazuki’s voice was taut as he continued. “I tried to kill his father, once. I had just awakened to Tsukiyomi, and I believed that I was strong enough to destroy the entire testing facility.” He laughed mirthlessly, the sound devoid of any humor. “I was still weak; the boy took back control and we were restrained.”

Goro stayed silent, waiting for the man to continue. Perhaps he was playing the role of Akira, silently goading his conversation partner to spill their entire life story to him. A cup of Leblanc’s house blend and Akira’s presence was enough to loosen Goro’s tongue. It seemed a single question about Minazuki’s true identity was enough to shatter his reservations and incite a lengthy conversation about awful fathers and the ruination of a child.

“He was utterly brainwashed, back in the lab,” Minazuki continued, his shoulders still trembling with his contempt. “When we were captured, what do you believe his first words were?”

Goro stiffened at the redirection of Minazuki’s story; it had been easy to get lost in the man’s tale. Goro silently worked his mouth for a moment before finding his voice. “What did he say?” he asked, unwilling to guess and make a fool of himself.

Minazuki picked his head up, fixed Goro with an emotionless stare, and said in a poor caricature of Sho’s voice, “ _I’m sorry, Dad_.”

Goro could almost picture it - a young Sho, pinned to the ground by numerous researchers, and crying, _begging_ for forgiveness. How had Minazuki felt, fighting an uphill battle? Ripping Sho from his father’s clutches with the promise that fathers weren’t meant to treat their children like an experiment, like a weapon needing to be sharpened? In the confines of the lab, where white walls and pills and injections were all he knew, how had Minazuki convinced Sho that Ikutsuki wasn’t the only person in the world?

For a long time, Goro had been the same. His world had consisted of his mother, and the looming silhouette of his father, just out of reach. After his mother’s suicide, what else could he do besides chase his father? Stumbling into the Metaverse for the first time and awakening to Robin Hood - it felt like destiny. He had been given power, and he could be _useful_. Be it god or demon, someone had given him a chance to challenge his fate.

Robin Hood had been his salvation. Had Minazuki been Sho’s?

Goro breathed a sigh. “I suppose that Plume of Dusk was the best thing to happen to him,” he said solemnly.

“It led to a long path of pain and isolation but…” Minazuki smiled thinly, expression bittersweet. “Perhaps you are right.” Suddenly, he stood and rolled his shoulders back, staring expectantly at Goro. “Well. That’s enough of that.”

Goro hummed and took the cue, getting to his feet. He stretched his legs, seeing that he had been sitting for nearly half an hour. Realizing that Minazuki _still_ hadn’t given him a straight answer, he decided to ask again. “Why are we here, anyway?”

“Housekeeping,” Minazuki responded flatly. Maybe it had been a joke, but Minazuki’s unaffected voice did nothing to help convey that. After a moment, he spoke up again. “Hm. Perhaps I should clarify that. I am... “ he shook his head, turning on his heel instead. “Never mind. Follow me.”

Goro fell into step slightly behind his senior as they left the library-esque room. It was odd to see Minazuki so uncertain of himself and his words; he had always spoken in that measured tone of his and with a decisiveness that Goro envied. Now, Minazuki seemed tentative for a reason unbeknownst to Goro. Was he _nervous_?

They trekked through a small hallway, and Goro’s shoulders nearly brushed against the narrow wooden walls. It was an odd architectural design, but he decided to hold his tongue. Complaining about the tight fit would do nothing to change it - all it would do was expose himself as finicky and quick to whine. Brushing aside his discomfort, he silently persisted. It was only once they had stepped into the wider room at the end of the hallway that Goro exhaled a heavy breath.

“Ikutsuki was an odd man,” Minazuki said, perhaps catching onto Goro’s discomfort. “A horrible excuse for a human… and equally as odd.”

Humming in response, Goro scanned the room. It seemed that this space was a continuation of the other room; the walls were made up of bookshelves that were completely filled to the brim with novels, textbooks, and scientific journals. Where the other room had a sofa and a chair, this room had a moderately-sized bed in the center. Directly across from them was a giant screen - a TV, maybe - that was powered off. The ceiling was-

Goro squinted against the sun. There _was_ no ceiling - just metal bars stretching across the room, connecting the walls together. It almost seemed like the bars of a prison cell if one were to ignore their nonsensical placement. What would happen on a rainy or snowy day? Surely all the books in the room would be ruined.

Minazuki’s lips tugged into a slight smirk. “I thought the same when we first found this house.” He tilted his head back, blue-gray eyes examining the ceiling - or lack thereof. “I suppose Ikutsuki enjoyed the greens of the Dark Hour.”

After Goro had inquired about it back in June, he had received a lengthy explanation about what happened during the Dark Hour. It was unsettling, knowing that he had slept soundly through a horrific hour of Shadows and coffins every single night. If he had the potential of awakening to a Persona as a child, would he have hid under his threadbare blanket as his mother morphed into a coffin? Perhaps ignorance truly _was_ bliss.

“What was the Dark Hour like?” Goro asked, lowering his gaze to watch Minazuki.

The man kept his head back, eyes still on the late afternoon sun. “The air was oppressive, making a simple task such as breathing difficult. It was harder to move, and it almost felt like being suffocated.”

Goro took a breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled. “The lower depths of Mementos felt like that, too.”

The atmosphere of Mementos weighed heavily on his body every time he entered. Shido’s cruise liner felt like a ball and chain was attached to his ankle. Maruki’s Palace felt like the weight of the entire world was pressing down on him - and maybe, it _was_. If he, Akira, and the Thieves hadn’t fought against Maruki... Goro might be forever trapped in that false reality where the sun would always be shining, a plastic smile would be permanently etched onto his face, and he would be living in the attic of Leblanc. Would his mother be alive, like a reanimated corpse, pulled along by a puppet’s strings? Would the Goro of that world even be able to _tell_?

Akira would have known. He had been the only other person besides Goro to realize they were living a nightmare. Not for the first time, Goro mused that the entire _universe_ seemed to center around Akira. Maruki must have believed the same, if the decision to stay in his reality was up to none other than Joker. If Akira had allowed himself to be deluded into living in that fake reality and Goro hadn’t torn through his dream like a tornado on that early January morning, they would all still be Maruki’s puppets. If Goro hadn’t challenged Akira’s resolve on that dark February evening, would he even be alive?

He opened his eyes, burying his thoughts for the time being. He could save these questions for a later introspection. Clearing his throat, he said, “You still haven’t explained why we’re here.”

Minazuki tilted his chin and fixed Goro with an unreadable expression. After a moment, he turned away and began walking towards the bed on the opposite side of the room. “You were complaining about the Shadow Operatives’ dress code,” he said, apropos of nothing.

Goro walked across the room, stopping behind the redhead. Minazuki had taken a knee, sifting through a pile of clothes slotted into one of the bookshelves. From what Goro could see past Minazuki’s body, every piece of fabric had a dark or muted hue to it. Everything seemed to be an earthy color if it wasn’t black.

“Hm,” Minazuki hummed as he stood up. When he turned around, Goro could see the dark green shirt folded In his hands. “See if this fits you.”

He took the shirt from Minazuki’s hands and held it by the shoulders, letting it hang loosely in his fingers. It was forest green with a black collar, and the yellow armband wrapped around the left sleeve nearly dropped to the floor as it unraveled. Goro looked back at Minazuki. “It’s not something I would choose but... ah…”

“The material is nice,” Minazuki said flatly, “and it is easy to fight in.” He blinked at Goro, completely unimpressed by Goro’s qualms with the shirt. “You were complaining about the tightness of the Operatives’ dress, were you not?”

He fought to keep his face neutral as he gave a small nod. He _did_ complain about the dress shirt, vest, tie, and jacket that Mitsuru strongly suggested her Operatives to wear. Aside from the counterintuitive idea of wearing restrictive clothing that inhibited combat ability… none of the Shadow Operatives even wore their uniforms. It irked Goro that he was the only one who followed Mitsuru’s order, despite being the newest member.

While Goro disliked the shirt in his hands, it would be rude if he failed to even try it on. He looked back to his partner and kept his voice even when he asked, “Where can I change?”

Minazuki parted his lips in his flounder, looking like Sho for all the world. “I had not considered the concept of privacy,” he admitted awkwardly. “I… suppose I can turn around.”

A nervous smile crawled onto Goro’s face. “I’ll just - I’ll go back to the room we were in before.” He spun on his heel before Minazuki could even get a word in. “I’ll be right back.”

Goro had already squeezed his way through the small hallway back into the first room by the time his thoughts caught up with him. God, this entire situation was awkward. Minazuki had given Goro one of his old shirts and expected him to change right in front of him? What the hell was-

Goro stopped in place, eyes trailing to the shirt in his hands. Oh. Minazuki had brought him here to find new clothes. Was he embarrassed? … Is _that_ why he refused to tell Goro why they were here?

He took slow steps to the sofa he had sat at earlier, mulling over his thoughts as he sat down. Minazuki was probably just exasperated from all of Goro’s whining. Surely he was irritated by the fact that Goro had taken such an issue to Mitsuru’s dress code and decided to take matters into his own hands. It wasn’t like Minazuki or Sho were wearing this shirt, considering they hadn’t been in here for six years. That was all this was - an easy solution for Goro’s problem.

Unbuttoning the shirt, he chewed on his lip. Minazuki had seen no issue with Goro changing right in front of him until Goro had suggested otherwise. Considering that Minazuki shared a body, perhaps the idea of privacy was foreign to him. Sure, Sho was rendered unconscious whenever Minazuki took control, but… it wasn’t a far stretch to think that Minazuki hadn’t even considered Goro taking an issue with it.

Goro placed the unbuttoned shirt on his lap and crossed his arms across his stomach, grabbing the ends of his shirt. Pulling it over his head, he placed it at his side and slipped his arms into the shirt from Minazuki and began to button it. Truthfully, Goro didn’t care much for the color, but new clothes were new clothes, even if it was a hand-me-down.

Goro was no stranger to hand-me-downs, considering his childhood. The rehab had gifted him a few old shirts during his stays there; although the graphics were faded and the hems were fraying, Goro cared little. His mother hadn’t been able to afford new clothes for him, so any new clothes were a blessing. Once he was in the foster care system, new clothes were even rarer.

He slipped in the top button and rolled his shoulders back. Minazuki was right - the shirt was on the looser side and the material was far from itchy. Absentmindedly, he tugged at the sleeves, folding them at the crooks of his elbows. While Goro still wasn’t completely sold on it, he couldn’t say the shirt was _bad_. It certainly wasn’t the worst thing he had ever had the displeasure of wearing.

Getting to his feet, he took his discarded shirt into his hands and began to walk towards the other room. After bumping his shoulders against the narrow walls, he stepped back into the attached room. At the sound of his footsteps, Minazuki turned around and-

Oh. The man was wearing a puffy jacket with a camouflage print and fluffy hood. Goro hadn’t seen it in the original pile, so Minazuki must have retrieved it from somewhere else in the room.

Minazuki brought a hand up to cover his mouth and Goro could see the beginnings of a smile on his face. “It fits,” he said amusedly.

“It does,” Goro echoed in a flat voice before raising an eyebrow. “Where’d you find that?”

Lowering his hand to the fuzzy material of the hood, Minazuki lifted it over his head. “It was on the floor beside the bed,” he said. “I was quite surprised to find it in that state, truthfully. It was the boy’s favorite.”

Goro decided to stop beating around the bush. “If it was his favorite, why did you wait six years to retrieve it?”

For a lengthy moment, Minazuki stared at Goro, face impassive. Then - he sighed and took a seat on the bed behind him. “He was afraid,” he murmured as he lowered his eyes to the concrete floor. “He refused to return here.”

Taking the cue, Goro crossed the remaining distance between where he was standing and the bed. He took a seat at Minazuki’s side, and the man’s eyes flicked to him in surprise. Maybe Minazuki hadn’t expected Goro to sit beside him, after all.

“It’s a good thing he has you, isn’t it?” Goro asked, keeping his gaze straight forward. “I would have killed to have someone in my life who gave a shit about me when I was younger.”

And truthfully, Goro _had_. He had convinced himself that working under Shido, causing the psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns - he had convinced himself that he was doing it to eventually destroy Shido. If the man had only achieved the seat of Prime Minister through the work done by his estranged bastard son, it would certainly ruin him and his life.

But Goro knew, deep down, the reason why he had stumbled into Shido’s office the summer he had turned fifteen, after he had knocked on death’s door and awakened to Robin Hood. He wanted his father. He wanted someone to ruffle his hair and say he was proud of him. He wanted his father to love him - just like any other son would.

Goro was praised for murdering Shido’s political opponents in the same way a father would compliment his son for high marks on a test or being the star player of a sports team. Disgust and happiness and hatred for Shido - for _himself_ \- curdled in his stomach like an awful cocktail during every one of their meetings and Goro found himself vomiting in the alley next to the Diet Building more often than not. He had killed for love and affection - literally.

Minazuki breathed a sigh, shoulders slumping. “He was quite the same. It mattered little that Ikutsuki was manipulating him into becoming a human weapon.” He tilted his head slightly, and the hood of his jacket fell back to rest on the crown of his head. “He believed that Ikutsuki loved him. A compliment and a smile every so often were enough to seduce him into a life of blind allegiance to that vile man.”

“I… wasn’t much different,” Goro admitted bitterly, a small frown tugging at the edges of his lips. “A single ‘ _good job, Akechi’_ was enough to keep me crawling back to Shido.”

A long stretch of silence settled between them. For a moment, Goro wondered if he had overstepped; Minazuki had been surprised when he sat down next to him. Discussing their similar pasts may have been cathartic, but maybe Minazuki had just wanted to retrieve the clothes and leave. It didn’t help that Goro felt like he hardly knew Minazuki, despite being a Shadow Operative for over two months now. Had he read the situation wrong? Maybe he should just tell Minazuki to forget what they talked about and return back to the base. This was stupid, _he_ was stupid-

“I am… happy you joined the Shadow Operatives,” Minazuki said in a quiet voice, perhaps afraid that speaking louder than a murmur would shatter the delicacy of this moment. “This boy has… _difficulty_ forging bonds. You two have worked well together and - dare I say - become fairly acquainted with one another.”

Goro squeezed his eyes shut, steeled his resolve, and said, “You can say friends. We’re - we’re friends too, aren’t we?”

Minazuki leaned forward and his hood shifted, hiding his face from Goro’s view. In the silence, Goro began to recount everything that had happened today to run through his evidence - to reaffirm that he wasn’t mistaken in Minazuki’s intentions.

In the two months that Goro had known them, Minazuki hardly surfaced, considering that being the one in control subdued Sho. It was easier for Minazuki to speak to Sho and for Sho to relay a message. Minazuki hated stealing control away from Sho, and only did so in dire situations like in their mission last month. To Goro’s surprise, the man had asked Sho for control of their body, dragged Goro out to the outskirts of Inaba - and for _what_? Minazuki had returned to this old house for the first time in six years... to find Goro new clothes to wear. It was completely unnecessary and yet… Minazuki had done it anyway.

While Goro was hardly experienced in friendship and what it entailed, it was difficult to dismiss Minazuki’s actions as being done out of necessity. It felt like an outstretched hand. While Goro had been the one to offer friendship verbally, it hardly meant that he was the one to propose the concept. Perhaps it had been a revelation for both of them - a truth waiting to be discovered.

“Hm,” Minazuki hummed, his low voice breaking through the quiet. “I... suppose we are.”

His hood had fallen back to rest on his shoulder blades, revealing his side profile to Goro. Minazuki was-

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile,” Goro said before his thoughts caught up to him. Once they did, his eyes widened and he floundered in his stupor. “Ah, that’s…”

“Mirth is rare for me,” Minazuki shook his head, smile still tugging at his lips. “Before, as long as the boy was happy, I was content.”

“And now?” Goro asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Now?” Minazuki turned towards Goro, and his blue-gray eyes seemed to glow in the light of the late afternoon sun. “Perhaps I am selfish and indulge in the same foolish intricacies of life that humans do.”

Forgetting himself, Goro’s lips pulled upward into a small smirk. “Like friendship?” he offered.

“Like friendship,” Minazuki nodded, and for the first time since Goro had met him, he looked at peace. Suddenly, he pushed off the bed and got to his feet, blinking at Goro expectantly. “Certainly we’ve wasted enough time being sentimental.” Despite the dismissiveness of his words, Minazuki still seemed happy. It was a good look for him, compared to his usual blank face and measured tone. It made him seem much more human, and for once in his life, Goro decided that being human _wasn’t_ always so awful.

“Thank you for the shirt,” Goro said as he stood up, and he huffed a small laugh as Minazuki averted his eyes before turning away. “... You aren’t thanked often, are you?”

“That’s enough psychoanalysis for today, Akechi,” Minazuki sighed, shaking his head. Clearing his throat, he said, “We best begin heading back now.”

As the two made their way through the house, Goro found his gaze fixed on Minazuki’s back. For a short, sentimental moment, Goro imagined Minazuki as an older brother figure and - _you should brush this aside, how foolish, you don’t deserve something as nice as that_ -

He quieted his intrusive thoughts, and for just the trip back to the underground base, he indulged himself on that childish sentiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't in my original plan for the fic. IST smacked me in the face and forced me to write Goro and Minazuki bonding. I'm not complaining because both of these idiots need friends, but adding another chapter certainly made hitting deadlines harder...
> 
> This chapter's outtake:  
> 


	6. The Threads of Destiny

In the middle of September, Mitsuru had requested Goro and Sho’s presence at the main Shadow Operatives’ headquarters. Goro had been surprised, considering that the last time he had seen the woman was the beginning of June when he was recruited, but he had gotten his things together without much reservation. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice, seeing as the limousine was already parked next to the stacks of TVs outside of the door.

Goro leaned his shoulder against the inner wall of the limo and watched as the scenery blurred past him. The windows were one way, allowing him to see the ocean view of Tatsumi Port Island without anyone being able to look in. As a result of his year and a half of being a recluse, he had forgotten what the luxury of riding in a limo had been like; during his Detective Prince days, he had his fair share of limousine trips with Shido.

“Fancy as shit, isn’t it?” Sho asked from the seat across from him. The man had his arms crossed and his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling. “Not to mention Kirijo has a shit ton of these at her disposal. I guess that makes her a limou _fiend_!” He barked a laugh, and seeing as Goro failed to share his mirth, he averted his eyes to the window. “... Just kidding.”

After a moment, Goro sighed. “You’ve done better.”

“Ha!” Sho cracked a grin, looking positively _radiant_ in his triumph. “You didn’t completely dismiss it so I’ll consider that a win.”

Goro elected not to respond and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear to busy his hands. How Sho had ended up attached to a coping mechanism such as awful puns was beyond him, but the least Goro could do was humor him every once in a while. Maybe if Goro were to completely denounce Sho for his awful sense of humor, Minazuki would come out and threaten him with a katana to the neck.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he stared out the window at the shimmering ocean at his side. It had been a month and a half since his trip with Minazuki. Perhaps due to his conversation with Goro, the man surfaced more often - typically to spend time with _the detective_ , or whatever his current epithet for Goro was. It had been surprising at first but… it wasn’t like Goro was opposed to the company. Minazuki was a wonderful conversation partner, and Goro was tempted to purchase a chess set and teach him how to play.

However, it made him wonder - did Minazuki talk to anyone besides Sho, Labrys, and Goro? Any conversation with Mitsuru and the other Operatives was strictly business. Ignoring the obvious connection with Sho, had Minazuki only enjoyed the company of Labrys before Goro had offered him friendship on that late August afternoon?

Minazuki’s connection with Sho was a given, considering their situation. Aside from that, whenever Labrys was around, Sho was the one in control. Minazuki wasn’t selfish enough to steal control from his other half around his girlfriend so-

Goro’s fingers tightened in his hair. Was he truly Minazuki’s only friend?

For a brief moment, Goro found himself back in Leblanc and sat at his usual barstool. The winter chill had been left at the door but Goro’s coat remained buttoned. Akira was behind the counter with his green apron still on despite the cafe closing ten minutes prior. Goro moved a rook forward, usurping one of Akira’s knights, and a snarky remark was off his tongue and in the air before his thoughts could catch up to him.

In the warm lighting of Leblanc, Akira had seemed to glow, and despite Goro completely decimating him in chess and condescendingly insulting his playstyle, Akira still wore the slightest smile on his face. Maybe Joker enjoyed Goro’s competitiveness - or perhaps he liked Goro’s brutal honesty compared to the Thieves and their sugar-coated words. Goro was his only rival. His only true friend.

Goro loosened his grip on his hair and brought his hand down to rest against the window sill, gloved fingers ghosting against the steel. If he were Minazuki’s only real friend… it seemed he would be playing the role of Akira for once in his life.

Suddenly, the above-head lights of the limousine powered on, basking them in the ambers of artificial lights. Goro’s eyes widened in his surprise and he turned his gaze to Sho, who was currently stretching out his arms and legs like an excited child after a long car trip.

“Fuckin’ _finally_ ,” he groaned, leaning forward in his seat and resting his arms against his knees. “That trip was way longer than I remember it.”

Goro shifted in his seat and waited for Sho to act first. He would much rather wait and follow his senior’s lead instead of acting first and making a fool of himself. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he did something in his haste and been made fun of once he showcased his incompetence. Besides - patience was a virtue and he had honed it during every trip to Shido’s office with a perfect, unfaltering smile. At least here, there was no bile clawing up his throat and Sho’s laughter was never truly offensive.

The redhead stretched one of his legs out of the limo, fingers wrapped around the car handle above the door like some kind of acrobat. He turned back to his partner, blue-gray eyes appraising the former detective. “You gettin’ up or what, kid? You’re the guest of honor for this whole gig!”

Goro bit back an immediate _what?_ Instead, he blinked and began to unbuckle his seat belt to buy some time and organize his thoughts. He was the guest of honor? What exactly did Mitsuru have planned and why did it depend on him? Unless Sho was just joking - which wouldn’t have been unbelievable, knowing the man. Goro inspected Sho’s expression and - nope. He seemed to be genuinely waiting for Goro because _apparently_ this trip to the main Shadow Operatives’ base centered around him. Interesting.

“Did Mitsuru-san inform you of any other details?” he asked tentatively, slipping out of his seat and stepping out of the limousine after Sho. While he would most likely be learning about the purpose of this trip once they met up with the other Operatives, the anxiety burning in the pit of his gut demanded that he at least _attempt_ to prepare himself for what was to come.

Upon exiting the limo, Goro immediately raised a hand to block the light of the afternoon sun. It was high in the sky but the angle was enough to temporarily blind him. Sho seemed to laugh at his expense, somehow unaffected by the sun’s rays.

“‘S not that bright,” he said dismissively, swatting a hand. “Now c’mon. We gotta walk through the station to get there.”

Despite Sho’s nonchalance and the carefree nature of his words, Goro could sense the underlying anxiety hidden beneath it all. The slight hitching of his shoulders, the miniscule shaking of his voice… Goro felt as if he was seeing a fifteen year old version of himself, standing in Shido’s office for the first time. Though the situation and location were vastly different, the emotion was the same: Sho was _afraid_.

Goro turned his gaze to the building before them. It was constructed of mostly concrete, but the overhang was steel. Between the supporting pillars was a row of glass windows and a door, allowing Goro to spot the silhouettes of people and furniture inside. Written on the door in bold kanji was: _National Police Agency_.

Perhaps to busy himself, Sho shut the limousine door, the _click_ snapping Goro out of his thoughts. “We’re heading to the underground level,” he elaborated, most likely due to Goro’s hesitance to move. Then, a small grin split his lips. “I hope you don’t mind going six feet under.”

Considering the fact that Goro had tiptoed through death’s bedroom for sport and nearly ended up dead more times than he could count, he simply shrugged. With a flat tone, he said, “Get on with it.”

“Ugh,” Sho groaned with a roll of his eyes, “back to being bitchy, I guess.”

When Goro failed to dignify that with a response, Sho sighed and led the way to the glass door. Pulling the handle, he swung the door open and stepped inside, leaving Goro to catch it before it closed on him. So much for being courteous.

Once they were inside, Goro took a look around to familiarize himself with his surroundings. It looked quite similar to the reception area of the building he had worked at when he was still Detective Prince Akechi Goro. The walls were sparsely decorated with framed documents. Two tables stood on either side of him, littered with pens and papers.

A few feet ahead of him, a long steel desk stretched across the room’s width, and a brunette woman stood behind it. While her face remained neutral, Goro could see the slight disgust in her dark eyes. “The Shadow Operatives, I presume?” she inquired.

“How’d you know?” Sho asked jovially with what could have been a forced smile. While he could have easily been blind to her annoyance, he also could just be playing along for the act. Whatever the reason was, it made Goro want to turn around, hop back into the limo, and hope the driver was being paid enough to bring him back to Inaba.

“A hunch,” the receptionist answered, nonplussed. Clearing her throat, she continued, “The elevator is down the hallway to the right. Kirijo-san’s division is on the seventh floor below ground.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sho said dismissively, probably rolling his eyes at the exchange. Then, his head tilted slightly to the right. After a short moment, he turned back to the woman. “Thanks.”

The receptionist offered an empty _you’re welcome_ and Goro could imagine the _now hurry up and get out of here_ she failed to say. Sho began to make his way towards the aforementioned hallway and Goro caught up with him in an instant.

“What did Minazuki tell you?” he asked, and Sho raised an eyebrow at his question.

“To thank that bitch,” he huffed exasperatedly, obviously annoyed at Minazuki’s suggestion. “Said it would look bad for the Shadow Ops if I gave her an attitude, even though she was _clearly_ giving us one.”

“She seemed disgusted with us,” Goro noted, furrowing his brow. “Is it because the Shadow Operatives are merely an unofficial division?”

“Kid, can you pull your head out of your ass for just one second?” Sho asked abruptly, turning to look at Goro. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were pulled into a small grimace. “You think non-Persona users would believe in Shadows and a division of the fucking police dedicated to hunting them?”

Goro stopped in his tracks, perhaps realizing just how foolish his inquiry had been. After being a Shadow Operative for nearly four months and _living_ the Shadow extermination lifestyle, he had nearly forgotten that it was an unknown field for the entire _world_ outside of the Shadow Operatives, the Phantom Thieves, and the handful of others who knew about the other world. It had been so easy to get caught up in the world of the supernatural that he had forgotten what normal life had been like.

If he had asked any random passersby about Shadows, they would think he was talking about the way light could create darkness at a certain angle. He might as well be a four year old boy again, asking his mother why darkness stretched across the floorboards when they turned the lamp on when the sun would set. It was quite embarrassing - especially having _Sho_ of all people call him out on it.

“No,” he replied lamely, ducking his head in his shame. “It was an ignorant question. Please do me a favor and forget about it.”

To Goro’s surprise, Sho lightly punched his arm. Goro was about to rebut at the sudden assault but the redhead began laughing. “You make bullying you so easy, it’s _hilarious_.” He shook his head, still wearing a small grin. “Let’s get to the elevator already. Even though I’m already _elated_.”

Goro choked on his spit and brought a fist to cover his mouth. “ _Awful_ ,” he coughed out. “That’s not even… funny…”

“Kid, try breathing instead of insulting my pun,” Sho said, humor leaving his voice. Was he actually concerned for Goro? “If you survived this long just to die of asphyxiation by jokes-” He paused. “Y’know what? That would actually be pretty funny. Keep choking.”

Goro cleared his throat and he was certain his face was bright red after his choking fit. “Are you always this insufferable?” he asked, narrowing garnet eyes at his partner. “Do you only torture _me_ like this?”

“Don’t think you’re special,” Sho said with a roll of his eyes. “The Investigation brats get the same treatment.”

Even though it only occurred for all of a split second, Goro noticed the slight faltering of Sho’s lips. While his demeanor was dismissive, Goro knew to trust body language and tells over a person’s words. As such, it was obvious to deduce that Sho was lying - at least to _some_ extent.

“Sure,” Goro hummed noncommittally. He cleared his throat again for good measure and raised an eyebrow expectantly as he asked, “The elevator?”

“Two feet ahead of you, jackass.” Sho began to walk forward, heading towards an opening in the wall a few steps to their right. “Aren’t you a detective? Are you _always_ this stupid?”

Goro’s mouth twisted bitterly. “ _Was_. I _was_ a detective.”

“I wonder what Detective Prince Prime thinks of you,” Sho said offhandedly, pressing a button on the wall. Goro could hear the distant sound of whirring and gears - probably the elevator rising to their current floor. “Maybe she’s ashamed that you disgraced the title she worked so hard for.”

Goro’s eyes trailed to the opening in the wall, examining the clean steel of the elevator door. He would much rather observe it than make eye contact with Sho right now.

Shirogane worked to earn her title. The Detective Prince epithet came from her diligence, her intellect, her deduction skills, and her persistence. She had the merit and the work ethic to prove it. All Goro had was staged cases, more lies than he could work his head around, and blood on his hands. He was an awful successor, and he was very surprised that Shirogane hadn’t degraded him when they had met back in June. Perhaps that spoke more to Shirogane’s restraint and maturity than Goro’s misdoings. It seemed her mercy was more potent than her contempt for Goro. Truthfully, she didn’t seem to hold any hatred for him at all. Maybe she _pitied_ him.

Despite being erased from the public’s cognition, Shirogane and her friends knew about him and his farce. She had deduced his involvement in Shido’s case without stepping a single foot in Tokyo. He had worked so diligently to cover his tracks, and The Conspiracy had done their fair share of masking his involvement in the case over the years. His prowess as a detective was completely overshadowed by her work. It was an _insult_ to call him her successor.

The elevator _dinged_ , snapping Goro out of his thoughts. Sho groaned something about the long wait before stepping on, and Goro followed suit. Luckily there was nobody else in the small space - but Goro began to doubt that was a boon when Sho began talking again.

“ _He_ sure likes to call you ‘detective’. Said something about how you’re smart enough for the job. But I don’t really see it.” Sho leaned back against the steel bar running along the walls, resting the palms of his hands on it. “All you’ve done is follow me like some kind of lost duckling or something.”

Goro kept his head down, examining his distorted reflection in the reflective metal at his feet. His short hair hung around his face, and his eyes had lost their shine. The thin long-sleeved shirt he wore hung loosely on his frame, and his white belt barely held up the black pants. He was getting extremely tired of wearing Sho’s hand-me-downs.

He felt as if he had both improved and worsened since leaving Maruki’s reality. His year on the run had stripped him of his determination and persistence. Training as a Shadow Operative felt like stretching an unused muscle; perhaps it would be apt to compare Shadow hunting to lifting weights with an arm that was broken a few months prior. Despite spending so many years involved in business dealing with Shadows and the Metaverse, Goro somehow felt out of his element.

Being solely at the secondary base in Inaba with Sho and Minazuki, it almost felt like he was in a kiddie pool and learning how to swim. On missions outside of the Metaverse, all he had was his fleeting endurance with Hereward and his combat prowess. Here, on the way down to the main Shadow Operatives’ headquarters with his heart in his stomach, Goro felt like he had never learned how to swim and had fallen into the deep end. It was suffocating, and he was _sure_ he would be drowning by the time they had left the elevator and entered the base.

“Hey,” Sho called, and Goro slightly picked up his head. It wasn’t enough to be able to see Sho’s face - only the camouflage jacket Minazuki had found last month. “I think we’ve established that nothing in your head’s worth _shit_. Try talking instead of thinking so much. I can’t read thoughts, asshole.”

Goro raised his chin, and he could see the genuinity on Sho’s face. Goro had been so caught up with his mind’s machinations that he had nearly forgotten he was still in the company of someone else. It was almost surprising, hearing Sho talk in a level tone without a trace of humor or sarcasm. If he were to trick himself, he could imagine it was Minazuki pretending to be Sho. Of course, Minazuki would have no reason to do such a thing, leaving Goro with the obvious answer presented before him. This was undoubtedly Sho, and after four months of ignoring the elephant in the room, he was commanding Goro to speak.

“Why aren’t you disgusted with me?” Goro spat out, his voice riddled with the contempt he held for himself. “All I’ve done is latch onto you and burden you. I clearly haven’t offered anything besides being dead weight on missions and in daily life.”

Sho remained silent, perhaps contemplating over Goro’s words. However, Goro’s tongue had already been loosened and it felt like his chest was on fire; suddenly, he had a burning need to tell Sho about everything he had bottled up over the past few months.

“The mission back in July,” he began, gloved fingers clenching and unclenching. “I was _useless_. Call of Chaos offered me no leverage over that Shadow, and it swatted me away as if I were a fruit fly.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “You were incapacitated. If Minazuki hadn’t taken over, we _both_ would have been dead. What good am I if I can’t even take down a single Shadow?”

“ _That’s_ what you’re worried about?” Sho asked harshly, confusion painted over his features. From the slight narrowing of his eyes and the downward turn of his lips, it was almost as if he found Goro’s dilemma _laughable_. “I was just as useless as you. You think I’m happy being saved? You think I _enjoy_ being at someone’s mercy and needing help?”

Goro felt his shoulders sink, his anger leaving him in a flash. Sho was speaking Goro’s own thoughts to him. Goro was certain he had said these exact same words to Akira, back in that endless winter of Maruki’s puppet show. He didn’t want help. He didn’t want to be _saved_. It didn’t matter if it was Akira’s hand or anyone else’s being outstretched to him. He didn’t want salvation. He had no means to reach out and grab it, and he had even _less_ desire to take the hand being offered to him in the first place.

A monster like him didn’t deserve salvation. His claws would simply pierce Akira’s outstretched hand, scarring him even further. Perhaps he had already dug his talons into Akira; he certainly hadn’t searched for Goro in this past year and a half. Were all those kind words superficial? Had Akira been stringing him along _that entire time_?

Goro was unable to tell if it was him or the elevator shaking so violently. His knees felt like they were about to buckle beneath him. Certainly it was the elevator moving down, not his own unsteadiness.

“Anyway,” Sho said, shattering the silence that had fallen between them, “you weren’t _totally_ useless.”

“What do you mean?” Goro asked tentatively. He felt foolish and naïve, latching onto the slightest glimpse of hope at Sho’s words. Self-hatred burned in his gut and crawled up his throat. “If you’re sugarcoating this to make me feel less incompetent, you can just stop. I know the truth - I got swatted away by the Shadow and couldn’t even reach my gun in time.”

“Didn’t you listen to what he told you after that fight?” Sho gritted out, blue-gray eyes narrowed. “Same as what I told you on the helicopter on the way there, actually. Are your big words just for show or are you _actually_ this stupid?”

Goro scowled. “Listen to what?” he growled, feeling just about ready to rip open the doors of the elevator and abandon Sho.

“Remember when I told you that you were The Hanged Man?” Sho asked, fingers drumming against the steel guardrail pressing into the small of his back. “Well. We’re a Wildcard, so that means more than just a picture on a tarot card.”

“Yes,” Goro allowed after a moment, still clinging to Sho’s words like the fool he was. He felt extremely pathetic, latching onto this childish hope that maybe he _wasn’t_ as useless and incompetent as he felt most of the time.

“How can I put this simply…” Sho frowned in thought, eyes trailing to his black shoes. “I guess the easiest way to put it is that I form bonds and _he_ can use Personas based on the arcana of those bonds.”

Goro nodded slowly, absorbing the information. Perhaps Akira’s ability was similar; while Joker recruited Shadows in the Metaverse, perhaps the arcana his friends represented helped bolster that in some way. Goro had been Justice. From what Akira had talked about on some late evening at Leblanc, Personas of the Justice arcana seemed to be mostly angels and other light deities. Did that mean the blindingly bright Metatron was born from Akira’s bond with Goro?

He pushed down the thought, unwilling to pursue it further. Instead, he recalled his conversation with Minazuki after they had taken down the Shadow together back in July. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he forced himself to speak. “He told me that Moloch is of The Hanged Man arcana.”

“The weird bull centaur thing?” Sho asked, and when Goro offered a small nod, he cracked a small smile. “I think I can see the resemblance if I squint.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Goro hissed, feeling a blush burn his skin and betray his words. Hereward buzzed irritably in the back of his mind, perhaps warning him against slipping into profanities and agitating Sho.

“Well, anyway,” Sho leaned his head back, the fiery spikes of his hair pressing against the steel of the elevator wall behind him. “The bond we have is what saved us - and believe me, the sappiness of that makes me wanna _gag_.”

“I suppose we share that same reaction,” Goro sighed, unwilling to comment further. He waited for Sho to call him out, especially after his offer of friendship to Minazuki last month and whatever brainlessly sentimental thoughts he spewed out in the late hours of the night during their talks. Fortunately, the redhead held his tongue.

After what must have been an hour, the elevator finally _dinged_ and opened its doors. Either the National Police Agency needed to invest in repairs or the gods that thoroughly enjoyed torturing Goro needed their entertainment for the day. Regardless of the reason, the ride was over and Goro itched to step out into the hallway past the steel doors. Betraying his impatience, he allowed Sho to galavant out first before walking out of the elevator.

The hallway was wide, which was a relief to Goro. At least he didn’t need to walk extremely close to Sho and constantly knock shoulders with him. It would have been awfully reminiscent of Ikutsuki’s old house in the woods; at least Minazuki had been kind about it and offered him space.

“Main room of operations is down the hallway,” Sho said once the elevator doors closed behind them. “I recommend you sober up now so you don’t make an even _bigger_ fool of yourself in front of Ice Queen Kirijo.”

Goro sighed but did as Sho suggested regardless. He could reconcile his thoughts about his usefulness as a Shadow Operative later. He was still without a single idea of what lay ahead of him once he walked through the doors. Sho had informed him that _he_ was the reason this visit was happening. Had Goro violated some protocol? Was he to be personally scolded by Mitsuru and kicked out of the organization?

“Kid, _seriously_?”

Goro looked up at Sho and attempted to brush aside the emotions swirling up into a storm within him. “What is it?” he asked, adding a hint of curiosity to his voice. It must have sounded as saccharine and fake as it felt on his tongue if Sho’s immediate grimace was enough of a tell.

“I just told you to get your head out of the clouds and focus on the here and now,” Sho huffed exasperatedly. “I seriously wonder how you get anything done when you get lost in your head so easily - and for so long, too.”

“I survive just fine,” Goro defended himself in a quiet voice, hardly believing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. _Anyway_ ,” Sho reached an arm towards him and snatched Goro’s wrist. “I don’t trust you to keep walking and not stop in the middle of the hallway because you spiralled into having an existential crisis over a philosophical question or some scholarly shit like that. Now come _on_.”

Sho tugged at Goro’s wrist and began walking forward. Goro stumbled slightly before catching himself and keeping up with Sho’s pace. Truthfully, Sho’s grip on his wrist was relatively loose; Goro could easily pull away if he tried. Despite that, Goro had a feeling Sho would just take hold of him again until they made it to the Shadow Operatives base. His pride was already in tatters and left out with yesterday’s garbage; being led by Sho was certainly not the _worst_ he’d been babied in his twenty years. If anything, Sho was being more attentive than some of Goro’s foster parents had been.

Goro let himself be pulled forward, allowing his feet to work on autopilot. Was Sho being concerned about him making a fool of himself because it would reflect badly on him? Perhaps Mitsuru had instructed Sho and Minazuki to teach him the ropes and be good role models for their newest recruit. Sho had no other reason to consistently scold Goro to prevent him from acting incompetent in front of their boss. Unless…

He shook his head. No, He was _not_ going to be sentimental. Minazuki may have accepted his offer of friendship and Sho _must_ have had some semblance of a bond with him, considering Moloch. And… well. Goro would be foolish to ignore the fact that he had practically been attached at the hip to Sho and Minazuki since the beginning of June. They had both been staying at the Shadow Operatives’ base in Inaba together with occasional visits from Labrys. Aside from that, it had just been the three of them in the constant company of one another.

The facts were presented to him on a silver platter and yet - some part of Goro _refused_ to accept the evidence right in front of him. There was no way Sho could be looking out for him because they were friends. Goro didn’t deserve help _or_ friends. He had decided that many years ago when he stood in front of the fading essence of Isshiki’s Shadow. Akira had still persisted - chased after Goro so intently that Maruki had observed his obsession with Goro and crafted an alternate reality where they could be together. It was foolish, it was sentimental - and Goro felt sick just _thinking_ about it.

Sho must have hated bonds as much as Goro did if he had seriously considered destroying the world six years ago. From what Goro had pieced together from the stories Minazuki and Labrys told, he had a fairly good idea of what Sho’s view of the world was. It wasn’t much different from Goro’s own: humanity was oppressive, friends were burdens, and bonds were chains shackling you down.

Goro had been a prisoner of fate since his very first breath. His shackles may have been invisible, but they weighed him down nevertheless.

He raised his head, observing Sho’s back in the silence. Wearing that puffy camouflage jacket, all of Sho’s scars were hidden from sight. It felt like Goro was privy to a secret, knowing just how many lacerations lay beneath all that fabric. Sho seemed proud of all his scars, displaying them for everyone to see in the hotter months of the year. Despite that, Goro could see the disgust and shame laden in Sho’s ostentatiousness; he wasn’t proud of his scars at _all_.

Goro covered his skin with long clothes, wore gloves, and put on makeup to hide the scars where clothing failed to reach. When he would shower or change his clothes, he was forcefully reminded of his past and what he had gone through to make it to the present. There were the scars from the orphanage and the foster homes - cuts all across his body and discolored patches where the skin had grown back unevenly. Then there were the marks from his experimentation; if he were to shine a light on his arms, he could make out the faint lines from each and every time the electricity had coursed through his veins.

The scars from the Metaverse were the worst, of course, considering how many years he fought for his life in that other world. He had cuts running across his chest from Shadows’ claws and on his back from sneak attacks in Palaces. Agilaos and Bufulas left patches of discolored skin, and Goro was certain the Megidolaons he narrowly avoided were why the sides of his legs were marred. He couldn’t run as fast as he could back when he had first awakened to Robin Hood, that was for sure.

He refused to recollect on the scars that _weren’t_ physical - the ones that haunted him every waking moment of his life and spawned the horrors in his nightmares. Perhaps Sho was the same way, whether he wanted to admit to it or not.

It seemed Sho had a different way of coping with his past. While Goro hid his actions and his scars with a fake smile, faker words, and a twenty feet wall constructed between him and the rest of the world, Sho either lost his temper or made shitty jokes to mask the fear undeniably growing inside him. They were both broken by the society they lived in, ruined by the humanity that _should_ have lifted them up, and cast astray from the salvation offered to them. With what they had both gone through, did they even have the means to reach out and take the hand being outstretched to them?

Goro’s eyes trailed down to Sho’s hand around his wrist and - well. He reconsidered his thoughts.

Joining the Shadow Operatives had felt like his hand was being forced. He had nowhere to go and Mitsuru had explicitly told him so; he didn’t _exist_. He had been dragged back onto the stage of destiny, and there in the TV World, he had decided to perform just like he always had. Mitsuru had offered him a lifeline, and he had accepted like the fool drowning in the sea of his sins that he was.

Over these past few months, he had attempted to unravel the mystery of one Minazuki Sho, and he knew he still had a long way to go. Despite that, he felt as though he had a good enough idea about Sho’s intentions after all this time. While neither he nor Minazuki were Akira, they both had attempted to teach Goro about his ignorance and help him grow as a person. That _must_ have been what the power of the Wildcard depended so heavily on: friendship, helping those you made bonds with, and utilizing the strength of those bonds to become a better person.

While Goro’s initial thoughts were that Sho was simply helping him out of necessity or to completely maximize his strength in Personas of The Hanged Man arcana, Goro began to doubt that notion. Minazuki seemed to genuinely enjoy Goro’s companionship, if him surfacing more to spend time with Goro was anything to go by. Sho, despite his harsh words and insults, also enjoyed bullying Goro goodnaturedly. If Goro were to really stretch it, it felt like having two older brothers - one being nice in his subtle and subdued way, and one bullying him out of love. It was an odd notion and well. The childish part of Goro wanted to hold onto it and never let go.

“We’re here,” Sho cut in, turning around to face him. “You done organizing your thoughts so you won’t be a total idiot in there?”

Goro hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I would hope so,” he said, smiling wryly. “It would be quite laughable if I spent all that time thinking without coming to a resolution.”

Sho stared at him for a moment, perhaps appraising his words and juxtaposing them to his expression. “I kinda feel like you’re shitting me right now but,” he shrugged, “not my problem anymore.”

Goro could see the underlying concern in the downward slope of Sho’s eyebrows. In addition to that, his voice wasn’t as jovial as it usually was upon a declaration of being indifferent to something. Just as Goro guessed, Sho was masking his own emotions by acting unaffected. If Goro wanted to expose himself and his coping mechanisms, he could call Sho out for the inconsistency of his words and his actions, but he held his tongue. They had other things to concern themselves with at the moment.

Pushing his thoughts aside for the time being, Goro looked towards the door in front of him. Similar to the elevator doors, they were constructed of a reflective metal. A pin pad was embedded in the wall to the left of the doors, and Sho approached it after releasing Goro’s wrist. On his second attempt, the pad gave a small buzz and the door slid open before them.

“Hellooooooo,” Sho called inside, a small smile plastered on his face. Unsurprisingly, Goro could see the slight trembling of Sho’s hands before the man stuffed them into his pockets. Maybe Sho was an anxious mess who masked his fear with scathing insults and awful puns. It wasn’t that much different from Goro’s own coping mechanisms and how he hid his insecurities.

Goro walked forward, stopping beside Sho and looking inside. Truthfully, it looked like the base back in Inaba but in a wider space with a few more machines. The similarities were uncanny. Either Mitsuru was a simplistic person when it came to design… or she was incredibly uncreative. Whatever the reason was, the Inaba base seemed like the miniature version of the Tatsumi Port Island headquarters.

There were more tables and chairs than the one in Inaba, which was an obvious deduction. This was the main base, of _course_ there would be more seating arrangements to accommodate having more people come to this one. Goro felt stupid for even thinking it, so he brushed it away and followed Sho as his senior entered the room.

“Ah,” a female voice said, choppy in its delivery, “our guests have arrived.”

Goro looked towards the origin of the sound and saw an android with short blonde hair. While Goro had only met her once, he recognized her to be Aigis, Labrys’ younger sister. She wore a dark suit, covering most of her robotic parts aside for her fingers and the stubby shape of her feet. Compared to the short clothing Labrys wore that revealed her true nature as an android at first glance, Aigis actually followed the dress code Mitsuru had advised them to. It made Goro wonder if his simple shirt and pants were acceptable upon meeting with the Shadow Operative higher-ups.

“Hey, Toaster,” Sho greeted the girl. “Where’s your sister?”

“She and Mitsuru-san went out on an errand,” Aigis said. “They should be back shortly.”

“Didn’t they know we were coming?” Sho asked somewhat irritably, impatience seeping into his words. “I got told the kid here was the star of the show. What’s up with that?”

The android lowered the folder in her hands to the table in front of her before shifting her blue eyes to Goro. “Akechi-san, do you know why you were invited here?”

Goro blinked, keeping his face neutral. “No. I was only informed that I was needed here.” He allowed a very small smile to appear polite. “Did Mitsuru-san tell you why I was invited?”

“Well…” Aigis’ voice trailed off as she stepped out from behind the table and in front of the two men. “Mitsuru-san and Sister do not have to be here for this, as I was the one who requested your presence.”

“Aigis-san?” he asked in lieu of anything else. “What did you call me here for?”

“A gift,” she replied cryptically; her eyes betrayed none of her intentions, unsettling Goro further. “If you will excuse me for just a moment, I will retrieve it.”

“Of course,” Goro said with a reflexive short nod, politeness an old habit from his Detective Prince days. Without missing a beat, Aigis returned the gesture before turning on her heel and walking towards a door on the other side of the room.

“Wonder why Scrap and Kirijo went out,” Sho grumbled, shoulders sinking. “They knew we were comin’ today.” A heavy frown tugged at his lips and his eyes were downcast. He must have been excited to see Labrys again, considering it had already been a few weeks since they had last spent time together. For a brief moment, Goro mused that Sho looked like a lost puppy, downtrodden after a long day in the doghouse.

Goro’s gaze trailed to his shoes. Futaba had once told him the same thing on a day in Leblanc while they had been waiting for Akira. It had been during their infiltration of Sae’s Palace, when Futaba _hadn’t_ known that he was her mother’s killer - back when she had only hated him for his fake TV personality. Her comment about him looking like a “sad golden retriever abandoned by his owner” in the absence of Akira faded from his mind, making room for a more pressing concern: what did Futaba think of him now, after it all?

She had avoided him as much as possible during that last winter as the Phantom Thieves. Whether it was something trivial like a tycoon game or hiding behind Sojiro when Goro would enter Leblanc, she made it obvious that she wanted nothing to do with him. And, really - why _would_ she? He hardly wanted to broach the topic of their shared bloodline, especially when it stemmed from a vile man like Shido. It would just make everything worse.

Besides, she had a loving adoptive father in Boss. There was no reason for her to find out who her biological father was - or how she was related to her mother’s killer. Perhaps this was Goro’s greatest path to atonement when it came to Isshiki’s death: staying far away from Tokyo and never seeing Futaba again.

Goro shook his head, shooing the thoughts away. He had no reason to be thinking about this right now. He cared little about how Futaba felt about him, especially after not seeing her for the past year and a half. What would telling her accomplish besides burning the already-fraying bridge between them? It would serve to widen the growing impasse at their feet - and put even _more_ distance between the two.

And besides, what use did he have for family? Blood obviously had meant nothing to Shido, and Goro only acknowledged the connection he had with his late mother. Futaba hadn’t searched for him at all since he had left Tokyo - so why should he attempt to forge a bond when she had never put in any effort with him in the first place?

He blinked and brought his gaze up, garnet eyes catching on the unruly spikes of Sho’s fiery hair. Hm. Blood meant nothing, surely - but bonds were a concept Goro was beginning to have a hard time dismissing as easily as he used to. Perhaps he was growing too sentimental, or maybe his heart had finally begun to pulse with the beat of life; whatever the reason was, Goro found himself faltering when it came to friendship and what exactly that entailed.

While Goro had been the one to reach out his hand and offer friendship to Minazuki, he still felt off-balance, like he still hadn’t found his footing in that concept. If Loki had still been around and slithering in the back of his mind like a venomous snake wearing Goro’s own face, he might have hissed, _Careful, Goro. Your human is showing_.

As if in consolation, Hereward thrummed quietly to soothe Goro’s heart. While remnants of Loki lurked in Hereward, the ultimate Persona retained all of Robin Hood’s care and protectiveness over Goro. After years of Robin Hood and Loki tugging at Goro in opposite directions towards their supposed _Justice_ , they had coalesced into Hereward - and led him right to Inaba.

Deep down, Goro hoped that his encounter with Sho and induction into the Shadow Operatives hadn’t been orchestrated by the gods. It had felt like his own decision, guided by Hereward’s bow and the tug of his heart. After so many years of being someone else’s weapon, his puppet strings had been cut. It had been of his own free will that he carved this path for himself. What was he if not free?

Standing in the middle of the Shadow Operatives’ base with Sho at his side, Goro decided _this_ was his truth. If only he had opened his eyes sooner and reached for the hand being outstretched to him.

“Apologies for the wait,” Aigis cut in, stepping back into the room with a box in hand. She allowed the steel door to close behind her, a reassuring _click_ resounding against the walls as the lock shifted back into place.

“It’s not a problem,” Goro found himself saying out of reflex. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out the somewhat incredulous look on Sho’s face, as if the idea of Goro being this consistently polite was surprising. And perhaps it _was_ , considering Sho never knew him when he was actively playing the role of the Detective Prince. In a way, Sho had been like Sumire; she had been astonished as soon as they had entered Maruki’s Palace, going as far as asking her _Akira-senpai_ if Goro were _a ruthless sort of person_.

“Where’s mine?” Sho asked while eyeing the gift with a small smirk, discarding his skepticism of Goro immediately. He was most obviously joking, but Aigis fixed him with a surprised look.

“I am afraid I do not have anything for you today, Sho-san.” She lowered her gaze to the box in her hands, metal fingers tightening slightly around the package. “I only have this one, after all.”

Goro allowed a small frown to tug at his lips. A one of a kind gift? No, that couldn’t be it. Perhaps Aigis had only purchased one of whatever she was gifting him. He raised an eyebrow at her. “If this is something irreplaceable to you, Aigis-san, I must refuse it.”

Standing her ground, Aigis shook her head, blue eyes glinting and her lips turned upward. She brandished the box to him, goading him to take it from her hands. “I insist, Akechi-san,” she said, voice hardened in determination.

After a moment of hesitation, Goro reluctantly took the box from Aigis. It had a good amount of weight to it, but it was nowhere near heavy. Goro resisted the childish urge to give it a small shake; instead, he renounced the cover with a delicateness that surprised even himself. The bittersweetness of Aigis’ smile and the care in which she handled the box… it must have been something important to her. For that reason, he found himself handling the gift with a caution he rarely found himself exhibiting.

When he removed the lid of the box, he was met with the sight of a folded uniform. It was mostly black in color, though a white button-down shirt and the crimson red of an armband stood out the most. Written across the armband was _S.E.E.S._ , the same letters written on the evoker Minazuki had given him back in June. Upon asking back in July, Goro had been informed that it stood for the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad - the group of Persona Users who exterminated Shadows at Mitsuru’s senior high school. This must have been a Gekkoukan High School uniform, if that were the case.

“This once belonged to someone important to me,” Aigis said in explanation, her voice tinged in melancholy. Despite the sadness in her tone, she wore a small smile. “I believe he would want someone to have it, especially after all these years of it sitting in the closet.”

Goro silently worked his mouth, eyes flicking between the uniform and the woman before him. “I can’t take this,” he rebutted weakly, reaching for the lid to cover the box once again.

“They’re _clothes_ ,” Sho interrupted with a huff, snatching the lid from Goro’s hand. “Go try ‘em on or something. ‘S better than you floundering like a fish.”

“Truly, I insist,” Aigis said delicately, reaffirming her resolve. “Sister informed me of your issue with your current Shadow Operatives uniform. I believe his uniform will be a suitable replacement.”

Goro tightened his fingers on the cardboard frame of the box, lowering his gaze to its contents. In his mind’s eye, he attempted to picture the original owner of the uniform and found himself drawing a blank. That boy had left a lasting impact on Aigis and distantly, Goro wondered about the rest of the Shadow Operatives. When they had just been high schoolers surviving The Dark Hour as S.E.E.S., had they traversed death’s bedroom to the point of being familiar with the sheets and the phantom who lay beneath them?

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Goro raised his eyes to Aigis and asked, “Where can I change?”

Aigis’ smile grew, as if a burden had been lifted off her chest. “The room I retrieved it from is a rather large storage closet. Feel free to use it as a changing room.”

He offered her a nod. “Thank you, Aigis-san.”

“Ugh, hurry it up already,” Sho groaned, putting his hands on Goro’s shoulders and pushing him forward. “Save the pleasantries for _never_.”

Goro stumbled forward, breaking off his contact with Sho. “I can walk by myself, thank you,” he grumbled.

“Didn’t look like it, kid.” Sho cracked a signature lopsided grin, and Goro braced himself for the inevitable pun to come. “Now get _back_ into the closet.”

Goro flustered and immediately ducked his head down. God damn it. Sho cackled at his expense, and Goro threw open the closet door and let it slam closed behind him without another word. After allowing himself a moment to recompose himself, he placed the box down on the metal table at his side and began to remove the uniform.

After removing the white button-down from the box, he began to unbutton it. As he slipped the buttons out of the holes, he noticed a thin black ribbon wrapped under the fold of the collar. While Goro had fancied his ties, ribbons definitely looked less restrictive on the neck at the cost of formality. Once it was completely unbuttoned, he placed it onto the table and pulled his own shirt off. Sho’s clothes were comfy, but Goro always preferred formal clothing; button-downs, ties, blazers, and the like made him feel like an adult and not the orphan boy he used to be.

He buttoned the shirt with a practiced ease and found the ribbon incredibly easy after years of tying a tie daily. Once it was securely around his neck, Goro reached for the jacket, taking it by the shoulders and holding it up. It was completely black in color besides a single gray streak on either side of the torso and the insignia of Gekkoukan High School on the left breast. Without a second thought, he slid an arm through the sleeve, pulled it over his shoulder, and moved to slip his other arm into the opposite sleeve. It was a little bit tighter than Goro had been expecting; the original owner must have been thinner than Goro, or at least had narrower shoulders.

Goro took the armband out of the box and slid it onto his left arm, pinning it in place with the safety pin attached to it. Once it was safely attached, he removed the pants from the box and held them up, allowing the fabric to unravel to its full size. They looked… much shorter than what Goro would wear and consider _long pants_. The boy must have been shorter than Goro - and by a few inches at _least_.

Well, he might as well try them on. With a sigh, Goro slipped off his shoes, loosened his belt, and unzipped his pants. Placing his pants and belt onto the table, he began to pull the uniform pants up his legs and-

He couldn’t pull them any further up. Once he had reached his thighs, the fabric resisted each and every one of his tugs. The worst part of this realization was that, even if Goro were somehow able to drag the pants past his thighs… there was no way he would be able to get them all the way up and button them. It shouldn’t have been surprising, considering how difficult it was for Goro to find pants that fit him due to his… above-average size behind. Just the thought caused his face to heat up, embarrassment burning across his skin.

A knock at the door startled Goro, fingers losing their grip on the waist of the pants. “Kid, you good in there?” Sho asked, knocking on the door again. “It’s been like ten minutes already!”

“I… um,” Goro fumbled for words, tugging at the pants again. “The pants don’t fit. Everything else is fine-”

“ _Pfft_ ,” Sho began laughing, and there was a thud at the door, presumably him pressing his back against it. “I _knew_ your fat ass wouldn’t fit into those pants!”

Goro ducked his head, feeling warmth crawl up his neck and settle comfortably in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Stubbornly, he pulled at the pants again but to no avail. Sho continued to laugh at him from outside the closet, finding Goro’s situation _beyond_ hilarious to make matters even worse.

"Dead man wearing an even _deader_ man's clothes," Sho laughed boisterously, probably wiping a tear from his eye at this point. "You can't make this shit up!"

Swallowing his pride, Goro tugged the uniform pants off, folded them, and placed them back into the box. With shaking hands, he took the pants he had worn earlier, pulled them over his legs, and redid the belt around his waist. Of course, they were still slightly big on him, but at least he could _fit_ into them. He slid his shoes back on, gave the jacket a reassuring tug, took the box into his hands, and prepared himself for the worst as he opened the closet door.

“Agh, _what the hell_!” Sho tumbled forward, losing his balance as Goro pressed the door open. His face was slightly red, undoubtedly from all of his laughing at Goro’s expense. “Give me a warning next time, Cakekechi!”

“C-Cake... kechi?” Aigis asked tentatively from behind Sho, confusion painted over her features. “Sho-san, what do you mean by that?”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Goro hissed, glaring daggers at Sho. While the redhead continued to grin, he surprisingly held his tongue. After a moment, Goro cleared his throat and turned towards Aigis, seamlessly replacing his open hostility towards Sho with a perfect mask of politeness and sincerity. “The pants don’t fit and the jacket is a bit tight, but I’ll survive. Thank you again, Aigis-san.”

“Oh,” she said with a blink, processing her thoughts. “If you would like, I can always ask Kanji-san if he would be willing to do alterations so it will fit better.”

Ripping apart and resewing the uniform seemed wrong, especially when it belonged to a departed friend and teammate of Aigis and the other first generation of Shadow Operatives. Simply _wearing_ this uniform felt like an intrusion of a life Goro hadn’t been privy to. This wasn’t Goro’s uniform, and he could never replace the boy who had worn it before him.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said with a shake of his head. “I mustn't bother you anymore. This was already more than you needed to do for me.”

“Akechi-san,” Aigis began, voice as gentle as it was fierce. “It is _yours_ now. You may alter it as you see fit. Please do not hold reservations about doing so.”

Sho took a step forward, placing the lid back onto the box as if to solidify Aigis’ claim. “Your fat cake isn’t fitting in there otherwise, so I recommend taking Toaster up on her offer.” He huffed a laugh as he leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. “Blondie does some pretty good work, contrary to his looks.”

“I insist,” Aigis reaffirmed, stepping forward so that she was right in front of Goro. “I will make arrangements with Kanji-san. He may need to know your measurements, but I will leave that to the two of you.”

Goro shut his eyes, coming to terms with losing this battle. “It would be rude to argue further,” he sighed. “Please give me a few minutes to change back.”

“Don’t get stuck,” Sho said teasingly, causing Goro to shoot him another glare. The man simply laughed again, the sound filling Goro’s ears until he headed back into the closet and closed the door behind him.

After placing the box down onto the table, Goro undid the ribbon and unbuttoned the shirt absentmindedly, eyes unfocused on the task. By the time he was done, his fingers ghosted over the jacket; he hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a weight towards the bottom. Feeling through the pockets, his knuckles brushed against plastic and wire. Cautiously, he took whatever it was out of the jacket pocket with a small sense of childish wonder.

Two plastic circles, connected together by a thin wire, and a cylindrical object connected to a lanyard. Turning one of the circles over in his palm, he noticed the small holes protruding through the plastic. Inspecting the cylinder again, he realized that these were an old pair of headphones and a music player. From the looks of this, this model must have been from over ten years ago at _least_.

Mitsuru’s team had been students at Gekkoukan High School around that time, hadn’t they? Goro’s fingers tightened around the plastic of the headphones, and for the third time that afternoon, he attempted to picture the boy that once was. When he was - once again - unable to conjure up a mental image, he returned the headphones and music player to the jacket pocket before taking off the uniform. With more force than necessary, he tugged Sho’s old shirt back on before folding the uniform with marginally more care.

Distantly, Goro wondered if Aigis saw the original owner instead of him when he wore the uniform. Were they similar at all? Aigis had never even mentioned a name, so it wasn’t like Goro could dig up information on the kid either. Regardless, Goro now wore his uniform - and the Shadow Operatives must have had conflicting feelings about that prospect.

Lidding the box, he opened the door and stepped back into the main room. During his second changing session, Mitsuru and Labrys had returned; Labrys offered him a small wave before returning to her conversation with Sho, and Mitsuru began walking over to him with Aigis in tow.

“Akechi,” Mitsuru greeted cordially, a small smile flitting across her lips. “It has been a while. I hope Sho and Minazuki have been treating you well in the months we haven’t spoken.”

His thoughts trailed to Sho and Minazuki’s _very_ different ways of treating him, and he settled on a nod. “Very well, thank you.” His eyes trailed down to the box in his hands. “I’m afraid the uniform doesn’t fit, but Aigis-san informed me of a friend of yours who could modify it?” His voice lilted into a question; while Goro had met Tatsumi Kanji along with the rest of the Investigation Team back in June, he was uncertain if Mitsuru would consider him a _friend_.

“I was going to contact Kanji-san,” Aigis said to Mitsuru, reaching forward to take the box from Goro’s hands. “He will…” she faltered, brow furrowing in thought. “What is the phrase? Ah - get it done pronto.”

“Tatsumi is very efficient,” Mitsuru reaffirmed with a nod, eyes trailing over the box as it was transferred to Aigis’ hands. “My apologies about it not fitting in the first place; you are much taller than he was.”

Goro didn’t miss the way Aigis’ fingers tightened around the box. Bringing his attention back to his superior, he offered a small smile. “Perhaps that is my fault, not yours, Mitsuru-san.”

“Regardless, we will have it altered for you,” she said, placing a hand to her hip. “You will be wearing it for missions to come, after all.”

He lowered his head in the caricature of a bow. “Thank you again, Aigis-san, Mitsuru-san.”

Truthfully, he still had reservations about wearing the clothes of someone so dear to them. While it made Goro feel like a worse replacement of the uniform’s original owner, the gift made him feel wanted and - dare he say it - _loved_. Aigis had chosen _him_ to receive the uniform, despite it being ownerless for what must have been ten years at this point. She could have easily have gifted it to any of the other Shadow Operatives, but she had given it to _him_.

“We done here?” Sho asked, walking towards the three of them with Labrys at his side. “Not gonna lie, kinda getting hungry.”

Mitsuru regarded him with a quick glance before returning her gaze to Goro. “Perhaps a meal together will be a suitable celebration and bonding experience.”

“Mitsuru-san,” Labrys began, a tentative look on her face. “Ya know me and Sis can’t eat though.”

“You can drink oil or something,” Sho said dismissively, earning a small punch in the arm from his girlfriend. “ _Cripes_ , are you in attack mode or something?”

“Sister and I will... make do,” Aigis said, lips turned upward at the edges. “I believe that is the correct phrase.”

As the sound of conversation and light banter grew around him, Goro ducked his head to hide the smile he felt crawling onto his face. Perhaps this is what having a family felt like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could copy and paste the entire chat log of Violet laughing over Goro not being able to fit into Minato's uniform for ten minutes straight at ~3 am. Here's a snippet of it.


	7. Gravity

Sprinting through the forest, gun clutched in his hands, and blood pounding in his ears, Goro never would have guessed that this was how his day would progress.

It had been a typical October afternoon; Goro had settled on reading a book in the downtime between missions, allowing his body a break. Just when he had gotten immersed into the novella, Sho had called him over due to a transmission he had received from Yamagishi. Apparently, there had been a large burst of Shadow activity within Inaba; Mitsuru, Aigis, and Labrys had been caught up with business closer to Tatsumi Port Island and the other Shadow Operatives had yet to respond, leaving the job to Goro and Sho.

And even with that recollection, Goro failed to understand exactly when the situation had grown so dire. It had all happened so fast - adrenaline coursing through his veins and clouding his thoughts - and the next thing he knew, he was sprinting through the forest with three Shadows hot on his trail.

He squeezed his eyes shut, panting from the exertion of running for so long, and reached inward for Hereward’s power. The Persona met him halfway, manifesting in a torrent of flames at his side. If Goro had been sixteen, he might have casted Call of Chaos on himself, despite how exhausted his body was. When he was younger and more foolish, the madness injected into his veins seemed like an easy tool to destroy the Shadows crawling towards him and clawing at his feet. Now that he was twenty and far less naïve, he gasped for air, hardly maintained Hereward’s manifestation, and beckoned the Persona forward.

“Rebellion Blade,” he called weakly, voice rattling with a wheeze. His Persona struck the three Shadows approaching him, knocking them down to the forest floor. If the Thieves had been at his side, perhaps they would be initiating an All Out Attack to press their advantage. In their absence, he dropped one of his hands to clutch his side, and Hereward flickered before vanishing completely.

The three Shadows began to reform themselves, morphing back into blobs of dark sludge and rising from the grass. Their blue masks and crimson claws glinted in the afternoon sun, and Goro’s breath caught in his throat. He was too weak to summon Hereward again, and he was certain he couldn’t fill the three Shadows with enough bullets to kill before he was attacked.

He ducked his head, huffing and puffing. The edges of his vision were growing dark and distantly, Goro wondered if this is how his story would end. He reasoned with himself that it was fine - he planned on dying many years ago. This was simply overdue retribution for the life he had led and the lives he had taken along the way. What was the difference if he died alone in this forest instead of alone in his apartment? The world would be better off regardless.

Hereward pulsated within his heart, as if spurring him on. Goro stuttered a breath, gloved fingers tightening around his gun. His arm shook, his entire body trembling with an unbelievable amount of exhaustion. He was surprised he was still standing, despite the weakness in his knees and every muscle of his legs. Perhaps his body was as stubborn as he was; even at death’s door, he held a gun and the audacity to knock.

Lifting his head up, Goro defiantly raised his pistol, flicking off the safety with an echoing _click_. If he was going to die here, he was going to go down fighting.

The Shadows sped towards him, inky bodies sliding across the grass as if it were a polished floor. Shooting at one of them, it writhed for all of a moment before shaking it off and charging once again. Goro fired again, and it dissolved into a mess of black goop.

He clicked off the safety again, wondering how many bullets he had left in the chamber. If it wasn’t such a high-stakes situation, he might have pondered over the similarities between this and Russian Roulette. Both were life-and-death scenarios, but perhaps the latter would be more fun.

Shooting once again, the Shadow hardly flinched. “Shit,” Goro cursed, spitting out blood. He clutched his side again, feeling the dented bones of his ribcage, and readied his pistol once again. “ _Shit_.”

For a fleeting moment, he debated on turning the gun on himself. If he were to shoot himself before the Shadows reached him, he would be going out on his own terms. It wasn’t like it was a brand new idea either; it would be two years later than he originally planned.

He shoved the thought aside and fired at the Shadow, cursing himself for his selfishness to live. When had he grown afraid of death? When had he decided that life was worth living and his destiny wasn’t to put a bullet in his head after a job well done?

After he had met Akira. After he had met Sho and Minazuki. After he had joined the Shadow Operatives, and realized that a life beyond the looming silhouette of Shido existed within his reach.

Hereward burst to life at his side, revitalized with Goro’s resolve. “Megidolaon, _now_!”

The Persona leaned forward, brandishing his bow and demolishing the Shadows with a burst of light in an instant. After a painstakingly long moment of Goro ascertaining his enemies were evaporated into dust, his knees buckled beneath him and he collapsed to the forest floor face down. He weakly spat out the grass in his mouth and allowed Hereward to fade, conserving his strength for the time being.

Before Goro had been chased by those monsters and isolated from Sho, they had been surrounded by the largest herd of Shadows he had ever seen. It was mortifying, considering they were in the real world; even in the depths of Mementos, Goro had never seen that many Shadows congregated in one place. Considering the barely-concealed anxiety on Sho’s face, he must have not either.

Goro pressed his forehead to the ground, blades of grass brushing against his skin before he met mud. He must have run half a mile with those Shadows chasing him. It left him to wonder: where was Sho? Had he used Tsukiyomi to teleport himself away? Goro had the awful feeling that he must have unsheathed his katanas and sliced his way out.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he moved his arms, pressed his hands against the ground, and pushed himself up. He trembled with the force of supporting his body and a cough worked its way up his throat by the time he was on his knees. Once he was settled, he reached forward to grab his gun and reload the cylinder with shaky hands.

He had struggled to take three Shadows down. Of course, that had been due to his very-limited capability of summoning Hereward, but the point still remained. He had a finite amount of bullets. Would he be able to survive another onslaught of Shadows?

Hereward thrummed in his chest. Goro took in a deep breath, settling the wavering of his resolve. He would need to trust himself and hope for the best. If he could just meet up with Sho and figure out their gameplan, that would be their best option. Until then, Goro had Hereward, two more rounds of ammo, and a small shred of hope.

Getting to his feet, Goro holstered his gun, wiped the muck from his face, and scanned his surroundings. Unsurprisingly, he was surrounded by trees. While he was currently situated in a small clearing within the forest, he was still without a clue of where he had ended up. Not for the first time, he wished Hereward had a teleporting ability like Tsukiyomi did. It would certainly make regrouping easier.

Beginning to trudge towards his left, Goro realized just how useless he was outside of the Metaverse. Surrounded in the reds and blacks of that other world, Goro felt like he ruled all of Tokyo. It was easy to get wrapped up in that feeling of power, especially when he had thought he was the only person able to access that place. Robin Hood had felt like a dream, and the whites, reds, and golds of his regal outfit truly made Goro feel like a prince out of a fantasy story. While Loki’s blacks and blues made Goro feel like the monster he was sure he was, the power coursing through his veins was unmistakable. He was a _king_ , down in the depths of Mementos.

Now, battered and bruised and bloody, Goro wondered just how integral he was, in the grand scheme of things. The other Shadow Operatives could summon their Personas in the real world due to years of training and experience. While none of the former Investigation Team could maintain their Personas for as long as the former S.E.E.S. members, the Anti-Shadow Suppression Weapons, Sho, or Minazuki, all of them could manifest their Personas for longer than Goro.

Maybe it was because he was the youngest member, or perhaps it was due to his lack of experience. Regardless of the reason, Goro still felt like dead weight when it came to the organization. He wasn’t special at _all_. Even now, the circumstances of his current mission dug under his skin; was Sho cutting through hordes of Shadows in search of him?

Goro continued to stumble through the forest, often taking breaks to lean against trees and support his trembling legs. He felt utterly _helpless_. If a Shadow were to sneak up on him, he was as good as gone. He could trust Hereward to bat it off, but for how long? Goro was sure he’d miss a gunshot with how shaky his aim currently was. Would a single bullet even be enough to kill a Shadow? It had taken two at _least_ for the Shadows earlier.

Perhaps a healing potion or a snack of some sort would help, just like they had in the Metaverse. It may have been due to cognition, but even a small candy could help him feel better after a tussle with Shadows. Goro dug through the pockets of his uniform pants and unsurprisingly came up short. Of _course_ he wouldn’t have anything on his person to help him.

He scowled and began walking again, finding himself leaning heavily against the trees more often than not. Was he truly this weak? He had been struck by attacks of all elements before those three Shadows chased him into the forest. Regardless of that fact, he _knew_ he had survived worse during his time as the Black Mask. Even when he had allied himself with the Phantom Thieves, he had suffered _much_ worse.

 _Perhaps_ , Goro realized dumbly, _that had been cognition, too._ It would make sense, considering the fighting spirit he held back in the Metaverse. Whether it was his undying resolve to take down Shido or his wrath towards Maruki for the man’s puppet show, Goro had _always_ been seething with rage during those times. Here in the real world, Goro's desire to fight was hardly passionate - nowhere _near_ close to how he used to burn with an anger that could rival even the _deepest_ pits of hell. And, even if it _was_ the work of cognition, would it have changed anything?

He thought of Sho, forcing a smile onto his face as he drew his katanas, and - well. Maybe the effect of cognition _wasn’t_ limited to just the Metaverse.

Goro lifted his eyes from the forest floor and spotted the peaceful stream of the Samegawa. Had he been so close to the floodplain without realizing it? He shook his head, attempting to focus on what had occurred before he was separated from Sho.

They had arrived at that clearing, hadn’t they? And just out of the corner of his eye, Goro could see the edges of the forest. He knew that the Samegawa lay on the other side of the woods. So, if he had made his way through the forest and ended up at the floodplain, surely that clearing would be in the completely opposite direction?

His thoughts still felt like a disoriented, hazy mess. Maybe it would be best to splash some water on his face before he headed back in search of Sho. He would be of no use in the shape he was currently in, anyway. What good could he do in a fight when his head felt like it was stuffed full with cotton?

Goro pushed off the tree he was currently supporting himself against. While his first steps without support were shaky, he was able to make it to the stream. Taking a cautionary glance around him, gratitude swelled in his stomach at the sight of an empty floodplain. Without another moment of contemplation, Goro dropped to his knees, removed his gloves, and submerged his hands into the water. He was careful to keep the sleeves of his uniform jacket above the stream, as if in respect of its original owner.

Splashing some of the water onto his face, Goro wiped at the grass stains on his forehead and ran his fingers through his bangs. Tatsumi had done a very efficient job of altering the uniform, and Goro was able to fit into it comfortably after the man had sewn it back together. Of course, the battle damage he sustained during those Shadows’ onslaught left Goro feeling guilty over the current state of the uniform; with all of the singes, rips, and stains, would Tatsumi be willing to sew it back together once again?

He dipped his hands into the stream again, relishing in the cold feel against his skin. While it was October and the temperatures were beginning to dip as the month went on, Goro still felt sweat dripping down his back from his exertion earlier. Without a doubt, he must have looked like a freakshow to any bystander that would happen upon him. His hair was surely a bird’s nest by now, his clothes were in tatters and singed in places, and his skin was covered in a mix of dirt, sweat, and dried blood. He looked like the perfect Detective Prince had crawled his way out of hell. It was only due to a stroke of pure luck that there was nobody here to witness Goro’s complete fall from grace.

Removing his pistol from the holster at his hip, he washed some water over the steel to clean the muck off it. It was unnecessary, sure, but Goro felt compelled to clean it off anyway. Once the weapon glinted back at him, he slid it back into his holster, put his gloves back on, and got to his feet.

While his knees still felt like they would buckle beneath his weight at any moment, he felt slightly better than before. If he harnessed his willpower and forced himself to keep going, he would be able to make it through the forest and reunite with Sho.

A reassuring hum from Hereward goaded him forward, and with less difficulty than the first time around, Goro trekked through the forest. While he still had to take breaks to brace himself against a tree and rest his aching bones, he was certainly making faster progress compared to earlier.

He needed to prove that he wasn’t worthless. He needed to make it out of this forest alive, find Sho, and fight whatever Shadows he met along the way. He was a Shadow Operative - he couldn’t die here, all alone, and without his purpose fulfilled.

He still needed to prove to Mitsuru that incorporating him into the organization was worth her time. He still needed to prove to Sho that he could hold his own and not rely on anyone else. He still needed to show Minazuki that he could survive without a Persona, without a weapon, and solely through the strength of his willpower. He still needed to find Akira, after it all.

Goro pushed forward, fighting against the exhaustion in his bones and the ache that seemed to spread throughout his entire body. He could rest when he was dead - he still had a mission.

Stepping out of the forest and into the late afternoon sun, Goro’s eyes widened at the scene before him. The horde of Shadows had grown, and they looked to be fusing together to form an even _larger_ Shadow. If this had been the Metaverse, Goro might have juxtaposed it with a Palace owner’s Shadow after the calling card had been sent. It was monstrous, towered over the height of even the tallest trees in the forest, and left him feeling like he was trapped in a nightmare.

He retrieved his pistol from his holster, clutching it in two hands. Perhaps the most terrifying aspect of this situation was the fact that this was the real world - not the Metaverse, not the TV World, and not even the oppressive green and red atmosphere of the Dark Hour. This was _reality_ , and Goro was more unprepared than he ever had been in his entire life.

“Kid!”

Goro’s eyes flicked towards the origin of the sound in an instant. A portal appeared at his side, and Sho tumbled out of it at Goro’s feet. The swordsman looked worse for wear; his jacket was half-torn and hung off his shoulders, and he was covered in a layer of blood and muck like Goro had been earlier. One of his katanas was sheathed, and the other was clutched in his hand akin to a lifeline.

“Where the hell did you go?” Sho growled angrily, even though Goro could easily parse the distinct concern in Sho’s expression. “You left me all alone to deal with _that_?”

Pointedly keeping his gaze on Sho and _not_ the colossal conglomerate of Shadows across the clearing from them, Goro lowered his gun. “I was being chased,” he replied, softening the rough edges of his voice. “Unlike _you_ , I can hardly rely on my Persona in the real world.”

Sho seemed to look over Goro for the first time, appraising his injuries and the state of his clothes. He got to his feet, took his other katana out of its sheath, and laughed. “Well, _shit_!” He turned his head towards the cluster of Shadows before returning his gaze to Goro. “That thing is _huge_. I don’t know if I can clear this by myself. _He_ might not be able to either. You _sure_ you can’t use your Persona?”

Goro shook his head. “Probably for a spell or two at most,” he admitted remorsefully.

Running his gloved fingers over his gun, he re-evaluated what resources he had at his disposal. He had enough ammo for two more refills and a small amount of energy to summon Hereward. Sho had his swords and Tsukiyomi. Minazuki had his swords and Personas of every arcana. While the three were individually talented and had quite the arsenal between them, it would do _nothing_ to the countless Shadows building themselves up into a titanous form stretching taller than some of Tokyo’s highest skyscrapers. Were they to die here?

“That berserk spell you use,” Sho began, catching Goro’s attention. “You think that’ll help?”

“Call of Chaos,” Goro supplied, shoulders slumping at the mention of the spell. “It basically forces my body to the limit. I can do a lot of damage, but I’m completely vulnerable in that state.”

Goro had mostly used Call of Chaos on others during his time as Shido’s hitman. In extremely desperate situations, he would use it on himself. Back in Maruki’s reality, Goro had casted it on himself more frequently - but only around Akira. He was able to rely on Akira to watch his back during those times. Goro had been desperate enough during their Plume recovery mission to use it on himself, and it had hardly mattered in the end. It was only because Minazuki had taken over that they weren’t killed by that Phantom-esque Shadow.

And if he were to use Call of Chaos on himself, what would it even do? Goro was without his sword - his lightsaber _or_ his serrated blade - and that berserk state would do nothing for his gun prowess. Pouncing onto that gigantic mass of Shadows was a death sentence. If anything, it would be a better idea to-

“I don’t like that look on your face,” Sho said, anxiety evident in his slight fidgeting.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Goro asked, “Do you think you’re strong enough to take that thing down?”

Sho blinked before a shaky grin crossed his face. “I’m sure as _hell_ strong enough to take that thing down,” he laughed, twirling his blades in a flourish. “You wanna bet on it?”

Despite Sho’s grin and boastful attitude, it was incredibly obvious what the man _really_ thought. Hell, Sho had admitted to being unsure about being able to kill that Shadow a few moments ago. Just as Goro had deduced during their months together, Sho hid his anxiety and nervousness behind large grins, insults, and puns. While he was attempting to convince Goro otherwise, the man wasn’t sure if he could take down that giant Shadow.

“No,” Goro said cautiously, as if treading a minefield, “but I _do_ have a proposition for you.”

“A proposition?” he asked, smile faltering as he ceased his sword spinning. “That’s _preposterous_.”

“Shut up for a second,” Goro chided with a shake of his head. Once he was certain Sho wouldn’t continue, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

“Usually? _No_ ,” Sho chuckled, and his laughter tapered off when he continued, “but I think I’m gonna have to, right now.”

While Goro had a feeling Sho was lying about that first part, he focused on the second part of his sentence. “I have a plan,” he said with careful countenance, “and I’m certain Minazuki won’t like it.”

“Let’s hear it,” Sho said amicably, digging his katanas into the ground and leaning his weight onto them. For a few moments, his head tilted to the side before he returned to looking directly at Goro. “He’s listening but you made him antsy. Says this better not be life-threatening.”

Against his will, Goro’s eyes slid towards the looming Shadow growing before them. “I’m certain that _anything_ we do against this Shadow will be life-threatening,” he said grimly. “While the most self-preservative move would be for us to retreat, our job is to exterminate it. So, as _Shadow Operatives_ , my plan will be putting us in danger.”

“I’ve probably been through worse,” Sho said honestly before slapping a smile onto his face to mask his vulnerability. “Quit stalling. What’s your detective brain cooking up?”

Goro’s gaze flicked back to Sho with a blink. “I can cast Call of Chaos on you,” he said slowly, “and you can tear that Shadow to shreds.”

“While I like the sound of beating the shit outta that thing,” Sho frowned, “you aren’t really in a position to defend me during that.”

Goro took in a deep breath and tightened his grip on his gun, strengthening his resolve. “I’ve fought in worse conditions,” he admitted with a matching frown. “I didn’t have much of a choice. It was kill or be killed. I don’t see much of a difference in our current situation.”

Sho’s eyes trailed to somewhere beyond Goro’s shoulder, silent in thought. After a moment, he closed his eyes and huffed. “He isn’t happy with it but he can always take over if shit hits the fan.” He opened them once again and gave his blades a spin. “Guess we’ll just have to pull a bait-and-switch.”

“I recommend focusing on your target before I cast this on you,” Goro advised. “... We best approach now.”

Sho sheathed one of his swords, grabbed Goro’s arm, and offered a sidelong glance. “You ready, kid?”

“I’m not a kid,” Goro grumbled, but nodded regardless.

“Tsukiyomi!”

The world shifted around them, and Goro forced himself to breathe as everything blurred and twisted. When he raised his chin, he examined the Shadow towering above them - it must have been fifty feet tall at _least_ , and its blue mask caught the light like morning meeting night. Turning his attention back to his partner, he watched as Sho took his sheathed katana and moved into his signature fighting stance, swords held in front of him with every intention to kill. Now that all of the pieces were in place, it was time for Goro to do his part of the plan.

Goro reached inward, seized the power coursing through his veins, and _pulled_. Hereward appeared at his side, looming over the two of them like a sentinel, and the Persona readied his bow.

“Hereward,” he called, redirecting his focus onto Sho, “Call of Chaos!”

Madness swam through his veins, shooting throughout his body like lightning waiting to strike. Dark energy pulsed from his heart, all along his body, and through his connection with Hereward. The black-clad Persona leaned forward and drew his bow, redirecting the power and-

Sho was enveloped in a menacing black aura, ethereal flames licking his skin. Before Goro could process the phenomenon, Sho vanished in the blink of an eye into another of Tsukiyomi’s portals, leaving him alone.

The Shadow roared above him, and Goro found himself running to put some distance between him and the monster. Once he was a fair distance away, he skidded to a halt, turned on his heel, and readied his gun. Just as he was about to fire, he caught sight of Sho hacking and slashing the Shadow, blades moving in a flurry. Every time the monster would raise a claw to swat at the swordsman, he disappeared into thin air before reappearing elsewhere to strike the Shadow with a clean arc of his swords.

Sho’s combat prowess was terrifying normally. Empowered by the maddening influence of Call of Chaos, he must have been unstoppable. He moved like a blur, vanishing in and out of existence, and tore through the Shadow with the overpowering strength of his dual katanas.

In her peripheral vision, Goro’s eyes caught some of the individuals Shadows still attempting to fuse with the titan before him. Flicking off the safety of his pistol, he began to fire at the strays; if he could slow down the Shadow’s fusing process, it would be easier for Sho to take it down. By the time Goro had taken out six of the smaller Shadows, a portal ripped through the air at his side and Sho tumbled out, landing on his hands and knees.

“C-Can’t… kill it,” he panted, body wracked with tremors. “Too big. Power… wearing out.”

While Sho may have been an insanely strong fighter, he was still _human_. Goro’s heart dropped into his stomach and his grip loosened on his gun. The Shadow continued to grow, and its head began to block the sun in the afternoon sky, bathing them in unnatural darkness. “Can Minazuki?” he asked, desperation evident in his voice. “I’ll cast Call of Chaos again. Maybe - maybe it’ll be enough to take it down.”

Sho spat out blood, pushed himself to his feet, and steadied himself. Wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, he tightened his hold on his blades with a self-assured grin. “My body doesn’t like… your batshit insane cocktail… but we’ll survive.”

He ducked his head, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. After a moment, he shook his head and raised his chin. “I _do_ hope one more onslaught will be sufficient,” Minazuki said, offering Goro a thin-lipped smile. “Now, _hurry_. We don’t have much time before it strikes once more.”

Nodding, Goro called upon Hereward’s power once again. His heart seized in his chest, undoubtedly from the exertion of summoning his Persona so many times in a short span of time, but Goro pushed past it with a deep inhale. “Hereward,” he repeated as he squeezed his eyes shut, “Call of Chaos!”

As Hereward leaned forward and directed his power onto Minazuki, Goro’s breath caught in his throat. Eyes snapping open, his hand flew to his chest as he clutched at the fabric of his uniform, heart skipping a beat. Hereward turned back, attentive to his user’s wellbeing above all else. Despite the Persona’s distraction, Call of Chaos still finished its casting time, and Minazuki shot forward in an instant.

Goro stumbled backwards, holding the uniform fabric over his heart with his right hand and his pistol with his left. Forcing his eyes to move towards the Shadow towering over him, he watched as Minazuki attacked the monster with marginally more force than Sho put behind his strikes. Perhaps Sho was more focused on using Tsukiyomi to evade attacks, leading him to expend most of his energy on manifesting his Persona. In stark contrast, Minazuki unleashed a relentless assault on the monster, and he relied on dashing out of the way of the Shadow’s retaliation attempts. Black Shadow goop flew off with every strike, but the monster never seemed to shrink in size.

Lowering his hand from his chest, Goro retrieved his last round of ammo and refilled the cylinder with a shaking hand. The edges of his vision were beginning to darken; summoning Hereward put an obvious strain on him, and using Call of Chaos _twice_ had drained him more than he had planned. Hopefully, Goro would be able to land a few shots and put a dent in the Shadow. While a few bullets may not have meant much, at least he was contributing to taking it down.

Firing a shot, Goro danced a step backwards from the recoil, his ears ringing. Would they be receiving backup? Sho had informed him that Mitsuru, Aigis, and Labrys were caught up with other business, and he hadn’t heard anything from the other Shadow Operatives before they rushed to the scene. Would they even be sent reinforcements? Perhaps the Shadow Operatives believed that Goro, Sho, and Minazuki had this under control and didn’t _need_ anyone else.

 _If we were in the Metaverse right now_ , Goro mused while firing another gunshot, _I could have been more useful_. _We wouldn’t need anyone else_.

“ _Attis_!”

Goro’s eyes snapped towards the flash of iridescent blue light and Minazuki’s shout; at the redhead’s side was a Persona that looked similar to a mummy, dismembered limbs floating in the caricature of a body. Steadying his arm and aiming towards the Shadow once again, he watched as Minazuki struck in tandem with the Persona at his side, casting a fire move just like he had with Moloch back in that laboratory in July.

“Blazing Hell!” Minazuki yelled with great effort, katanas slicing through the midsection of the Shadow as Attis summoned large pillars of fire at the base of the monster.

The Shadow _screeched_ , and Goro’s right hand went to cover his ear as he ducked his head. If his gunshots weren’t already causing him premature deafness, this Shadow’s cries would certainly solidify that happening. In its fury, it raised one of its mighty claws and smacked Minazuki down, sending the man rocketing towards the grass in an instant.

Attis vanished as Minazuki tumbled against the ground and rolled into a heap, and Goro pushed past his exhaustion to run towards the swordsman. Before his anxiety swallowed him whole, he sublimated his concern into anger. “Minazuki,” he hissed through gritted teeth, shaking the man’s shoulder with one hand and raising his gun towards the Shadow with the other. “You have to get up. You can’t _die here_.”

Minazuki hacked up blood, slowly pushing his back off the ground and supporting himself with his arms. “What… kind of guardian would I be… if I were to fall here?” he asked Goro in a breathy voice, maintaining a weak smile despite his injuries. In addition to the ones he sustained during his fight with the Shadow, Minazuki had to suffer through the pain of the injuries Sho obtained as well. The fact that he was still conscious and forcing himself up…

Goro’s eyes widened in realization. Minazuki couldn’t allow himself to die here. It didn’t matter how much pain he was in, or how much easier it would be to shut his eyes and collapse - _he needed to protect Sho_. And going by the concern in his gaze as he looked at his favorite _detective_ , maybe he wanted to protect Goro as well.

“God damn it,” Goro cursed, ducking his head. His arm was still raised towards the Shadow, and his other hand clutched uselessly at Minazuki’s torn-up jacket sleeve. “If only Hereward had Samarecarm or Diarahan or something actually _useful_ …!”

The Shadow roared once more, and Goro raised his gaze. The head of the monster blocked out the sun, painting the forest and clearing a dark green. If Goro and Minazuki were not currently staring down death, it might have been funny; the world had been entrenched in darkness, and the light of the sun was nowhere to be seen.

If this were the end, Goro wouldn’t have been surprised. All that was left was for the Shadow to strike forward, crush them into an unrecognizable pile of flesh and bones, and send them plummeting to the deepest depths of hell. What _else_ was awaiting them once they left this world?

Goro defiantly kept his gun raised and pointed towards the Shadow. It didn’t matter if the death staring him down was his own gun or the largest Shadow he had ever seen; he would go out fighting, just like he had always planned.

“Attis,” Minazuki called weakly, his eyes and scar flaring an ethereal blue as the mummy-esque Persona appeared at his side, “ _Salvation_.”

Pure, green light bathed the two of them, and Goro felt every ache and pain vanish without a trace. While Hereward was without any healing magic, it seemed that Attis had a trick or two up its bandages.

… Goro cursed himself internally for making the pun. Focusing on the more important matter at hand, he turned his eyes down to his partner. Without a word, Minazuki shook his head and got to his feet.

To Goro’s surprise, it was _Sho’s_ voice that came out of the redhead’s mouth when he finally spoke. “What the hell?” he asked brusquely, confusion painted over his features. “He pass out or some shit?”

Working past his stupor, Goro stood up and found his voice. “He took quite the beating from that Shadow,” he explained, moving his right hand back to his pistol and tightening his fingers around the metal. “He casted Salvation on both of us, and then…”

“Clocked out, got it,” Sho said dismissively, grabbing his swords from their sheaths and moving into his signature fighting stance. “You ready for round two?”

Goro reached inward, prepared himself for the strain of summoning his Persona once again, and offered a nod. “Ready.” In a flash, Hereward burst to life at his side. “Laevateinn!” he commanded, and the Persona manifested a phantom sword to slice the Shadow with.

“Judgement time,” Sho called, his eyes and scar burning a bright blue, “Tsukiyomi!”

Sho’s Persona flew towards the monster looming before them, his sword transforming into a scythe as it cleaved through the belly of the beast. The Shadow’s scream rumbled through the air like thunder as Tsukiyomi’s slice spread like cracks of lightning across its form, causing more black blobs to sink to the ground. To Goro’s horror, the fallen goop began to morph and reshape into smaller Shadows.

Goro squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on channeling his energy towards empowering Hereward’s attack. “Megidolaon!” he cried, tightening his grip on his gun as his heart seized in his chest for a brief moment. Upon reopening them, many of the newly-reformed Shadows disintegrated back into sludge and Goro sucked in a breath, allowing Hereward to retreat into his heart.

Moving his gaze to the titanous Shadow, Goro was relieved that it had stopped growing in size; it seemed to stagnate at the height where its head blocked the sun and refused to move any higher. It screeched again, and Goro fired more bullets into its towering form to add to its injuries. Surely the damage he, Sho, and Minazuki had done to it was beginning to add up?

Tsukiyomi slashed at the Shadow again, causing smaller Shadows to grow from the goop that had plummeted to the ground. Sho offered Goro a glance before turning his back on him, shifting his focus to their smaller enemies. “I can make quick work of these,” he said, giving his katanas a flourishing spin for show. “Distract the big guy for a sec, will ya?”

As soon as Goro gave a small grunt of acknowledgement, Sho vanished from his side and reappeared closer to the smaller Shadows. While the swordsman took care of their smaller foes, Goro turned his gaze upward to the giant monster before him. Its jovial blue mask grinned eerily at him, and its crimson claws were poised to attack. His heart dropped into his stomach and an awful sense of dread weighed his shoulders down. Hereward, Tsukiyomi, and Attis had hardly made a dent in the titanous form of this monster. When Sho had been successful in chopping it down, it birthed individual Shadows for them to fend off. They could only heal themselves and fight for so long. Was this the end?

Goro swallowed past the lump in his throat and hardened his resolve. He had a future within his grasp, and people to share his life with. He couldn’t surrender - not when he had people relying on him. It wasn’t just his _own_ life he was protecting anymore.

Hereward reappeared with a flourish of blue flames. _Is this thy justice_? he asked.

During the casino heist with the Phantom Thieves, Goro’s purpose was to discover someone _else’s_ truth - one that was already laid out before him. Back in Maruki’s reality, Goro had decided that _he_ was the one to decide the truth. During his induction to the Shadow Operatives, he resolved to tearing off his puppet strings and pursuing his own justice.

Goro’s fingers tightened around his gun as he aimed it directly at the mask of the hulking Shadow before him. With a nod, he said resolutely, “I’m _done_ running.” Flicking off the safety of his pistol, his index finger wrapped around the trigger. “I’m _done_ dancing in the palm of anyone else.”

Glaring at the Shadow towering countless feet above him, memories of the past few months flashed before Goro’s eyes. Sho and Minazuki’s very different ideas of mentoring. Labrys’ endearing optimism and outstretched hand. Mitsuru’s detached but caring nature as she offered him a position on her team. Aigis, handing him the uniform of a beloved friend.

The bonds he had forged with the Shadow Operatives - they almost felt like _family_. He had people to live for, and people to _protect_.

 _This_ was his truth. _This_ was his justice.

“Hereward,” he called, and that was answer enough.

His Persona pulled the taut string of his bow back, dark energy pulsating through the weapon. Goro fired his gun and yelled, “Rebellion Blade!”

The Shadow faltered under the weight of Hereward’s strike, and the light of the sun peeked out from behind its monstrous form. Goro fired his gun once again as his Persona continued to unleash attacks upon the beast. He pushed through the strain on his heart; he could rest once the Shadow was defeated.

A portal appeared at his side and Sho landed gracefully next to him. “Minis are taken care of for now,” he said in explanation, shaking his head to fling off the sweat building on his forehead. “You ready to take this thing down before it has _more_ kids?”

Cracking a small smile, Goro asked, “Sho time?”

Sho grinned from ear to ear as he readied his swords. “Aw, _hell_ yeah.”

As Sho dashed forward and aimed for the belly of the beast, Goro commanded Hereward to strike with Rebellion Blade once again. More puddles of black goop sank to the grass, and they began to grow and morph into Shadows.

“Megidolaon!” he cried, obliterating the smaller Shadows as soon as they rose from the ground. The large Shadow shrieked against the Almighty attack in addition to Sho’s relentless onslaught of sword strikes and Tsukiyomi’s Curse spells.

After that Megidolaon, Goro’s exhaustion began to get the better of him, Hereward’s form faltering momentarily before he could cast another spell. He panted heavily, growing lightheaded from pushing himself to his limits for such a long period of time. He swayed on his feet, and Hereward flickered out of existence at his loss of concentration. Bringing his gaze up to the Shadow, it still seemed to tower endlessly above him. Even though Goro could make out the edge of the sun from behind its head, he was uncertain if he would ever see the sky hidden beneath it.

Perhaps noticing his slip into vulnerability, Sho reappeared at his side. “Hey,” he said firmly, taking a strong hold of Goro’s shoulders, “stay with me, kid.”

“Does Minazuki… have a Diarahan in him?” he asked weakly, hardly catching his breath.

Sho narrowed his eyes as he glanced off to the side, mind focused elsewhere. After a moment, he shook his head with a growl and dropped his hands from Goro’s shoulders. “His little stunt knocked him out cold.” He forced a smile onto his face to hide his anxiety, readjusting his grip on his katanas. “Just us.”

Goro steadied his breathing and willed his heart to calm down. Once his breathing was under control and he didn’t feel like he would collapse at any second, he swallowed past the lump in his throat and readied his gun. He moved to stand back to back with Sho - Goro facing the hulking Shadow before them and Sho opposing the smaller Shadows approaching them. Just as he opened his mouth to offer a plan, a shout cut through the air.

“RAOUL!”

Goro’s breath caught in his throat, and his eyes were instinctively drawn towards the origin of the sound like a moth to a flame. Standing beyond the Shadow’s reach was a _very_ familiar figure - one that he would recognize in _any_ lifetime - and Goro realized that perhaps the force of gravity applied to the push and pull between _people_ as well.

Goro couldn’t help but note that his hair was a little shorter than it used to be, curls ending above the tips of his ears in a somewhat tameable mess. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, either. Maybe he realized he didn't need a mask anymore - unlike Goro. His determined, gunmetal eyes looked better without a one-way mirror in front of them, anyway.

With October already finished running half its course, he wore a long gray shirt and jeans. Goro wondered if it was the same shirt he wore to sleep back in Leblanc's attic, tucked under the thin covers on his uncomfortable mattress. It was odd, seeing him without a dagger or a gun in hand. It was even odder, seeing Raoul at his back when _Akira_ stood there, not Joker.

"Kid," Sho called in an attempt to snap him out of his reverie, but Goro's eyes never abandoned the phantom across the field. "You need to _focus_! We're fucking surrounded!"

Goro's fingers loosened around the gun and it clattered uselessly to his feet. The wind picked up around them, the Shadow shrieking as colorful leaves bristled and took into the air above their heads. He was shaking - he was sure of it - but all he could hear was the merciless pounding of his heartbeat in his ears and the endless _Akira, Akira, Akira_ that seemed to echo all around him.

Joker - no - _Akira_ turned around, a smirk playing across his lips, and Goro met his gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I end this on a cliffhanger? Of course I did. :3c
> 
> A random tidbit that I didn't get to include in this chapter: In the Japanese lunar calendar, October is known as Kannazuki, lit: "the godless month" or "the month of the godless moon". I do think this is interesting because so much of Goro's existence has been being a puppet of the gods (i.e. Yaldabaoth). His connection with Akira was due to Yaldy's game and his influence. So for them to meet again during the "godless month", it means that their meeting-again is not them being pawns of gods. It's them meeting again to rectify what's happened in their pasts.
> 
> I'm obligated to post the infamous ms pain(t) comic I drew back in October for the final scene in the fic. You're welcome, by the way: 
> 
> Another huge thank you to everybody that made this fic possible. I couldn't have written this monster of a fic without the other Goromods, my artist, my betas, and members of the GBB server. I hope you'll subscribe to the series and look forward to the sequel! :D
> 
> [Talk to me on Twitter!!](https://twitter.com/Zeiskyte) I'm a Goroboy and Arena enthusiast, and I'm always down for a convo about these lovable idiots.


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